After the War
by the scarlet phoenix
Summary: Narnia has, for the first time in a full century, an opportunity for peace. Will the Pevensies lead them to a Golden Age, or will they fall to the White Witch's vanguard? Narnia's destiny can only be revealed after the war.
1. Prologue

From the very beginning, I was there.

I was there long before the Children of Adam and Eve, born in the 83rd year of Winter, when the Morningstar fell to earth and joined with the first star of the evening.

I was there, living five years in the skies, with my father and my mother, watching with great sorrow the Winter of Narnia.

I was there, falling from the sky as punishment for rebellion against my parents, landing in that same Winter, in its 88th year, alone, with only the hope of returning to the skies after making reparation for my deeds.

I was there, surviving five years in the dungeons of the White Witch's palace, surviving only with Oreius' aid.

I was there eight years more, living with the centaurs.

I was there by day, taught to fight by them members of the herd. And I was there by night, watching with envy the stars that slipped over the horizon until I could stay awake no longer.

But I was there, in the hundredth year of Winter, when the Kings and Queens came.

I was there in the crowd as Aslan met Them for the first time.

I was there with Oreius and the rest to save the Younger King, and bore him away to safety.

I was there when They became a family once more, for my tent was not far from Theirs, and watched with awe and envy their companionship and love.

And I was there that accursed morning when we learned of Aslan's death, and I wept tears of light, so bitter was the loss.

I was there in the first charge, running as swiftly as Oreius next to the High King.

I was there after, my twin katanas sheathed in blood again and again, until the coming of Aslan and the end of the battle.

I was there when the last minotaur cut my back from shoulder to hip, and I lay dying on the field.

But I was still there, for the Elder Queen slew him with a single arrow, and the Younger Queen came with the juice of the fireflower.

I was there once more as we carried the dead to a pyre, and I sang to send their souls to Aslan's kingdom beyond the sea.

I was there before the coronation, when Aslan charged me with my task.

So now I am here, and here I will remain.

* * *

Author's Note: Hello, all! Welcome to the newly revamped and de-Mary Sued version of After the War. I'll try and update about once a week. Just a few clarifications about this story

1.) Yes, I have read every one of the Chronicles of Narnia books. This will be a bit more of a movieverse story, just because it's easier to mess with something that someone else has already messed with (if that makes sense).

2.) This story will be slightly AU (I changed the ages of the Pevensies). But not very much, because i love C.S. Lewis

3.) Please, no flames. I know enough abrasive people that I really don't need any more online. Constructive criticism is welcome, as are reviews without any criticism at all!

4.) no...actually, there isn't a fourth point. that's about it. read, enjoy, and click that lovely little grey-and-green button that lets you review!

Yours,

the Scarlet Phoenix


	2. Hope Springs Eternal

Author's Note: I know I said I'd only update every week or so, but I had to post this in apology. I have no idea how I managed to get a typo into my title (I'm so ashamed), let alone in the text. Apparently, writing two papers and a lab report in a week cooks one's mind. In any event, several explanations:

-I know the choice of weapons are odd for a European-based fantasy world. However, I considered two things in giving my OC something a bit different. First, there were several exotic-looking weapons in the movieverse. Second, my OC is a fallen star, and therefore not of earth-bound Narnia, so I thought I should make her customs a bit different.

-Regarding the avoidance of Mary-Sue-ness: while I believe that "Mary-Sue" is often a sexist term (you can make a guy character fantastic at everything and he won't be called the male equivalent--Gary-Stu--nearly as often), I do recognize that with a character like this, it would be easy to perceive her as a Mary Sue. In an effort to prevent that, I've made her as canon as possible. In The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Ramandu, for example, sings with his daughter, and it seems to the Pevensies that their singing causes the sun to rise. I took that a step further (okay, and combined it a bit with Happy Feet) and decided that every star would have a song. Yes, I realize I have made her a fighter as well. Don't worry. She won't be perfect. She'll be good--wouldn't you be, after practicing for eight years?--but she will NOT be perfect. If there is a particular element of my OC that you feel is too Mary-Sue-like, feel free to let me know, and I'll do my best to tone her down.

-As a warning, she will, however, be a better fighter than Peter or Edmund. This, I believe, is not Mary-Sue-like in any way, shape, or form: if you've been training with weapons for eight years, you'll be better than someone who just picked up a sword two days ago. Fact of life.

-Finally, the whole "task" thing really isn't that special...it's more of an assignment. Like, "go here and do this." Nothing fancy, nothing special, nothing to outshine anybody. It actually involves her being in a subservient position.

Many thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far, and special thanks to MyBlueOblivion, who very kindly alerted me to my shameful typos (so sorry, all) and has suggested several ways to avoid Mary-Sue-ness!

With all that being said...on with the tale.

* * *

Though no sun broke through the heavy clouds, the sky blazed harshly white. Snow fell softly, slipping down evergreen branches. In the center of a large clearing at the Southern edge of the Western Wood, completely covered by the long-reaching branches, a herd of centaurs slept, clustered together for warmth. As the sky continued to brighten, the tall male at the center rose, shaking off flakes. He bent and shook the smaller female next to him, then proceeded to wake the rest of his herd.

Oreius looked on as his herd awoke, and smiled to see Kira, his mate, helping the littlings—the colts and fillies. He turned to the largest tree surrounding the clearing and kicked it, hard. A small black and silver shape tumbled from one of its highest branches. Oreius chuckled slightly as a slender girl of less than a score of years rose from the now-melted snow, shaking snow from chocolate-brown curls.

"You could have just yelled," she grumbled. She twisted to inspect herself, shaking off now-melted rivulets of icy water. She glanced down at the snow: a perfect outline of her body was melted into the ground. One of the fillies galloped at her, full speed, attempting to leap over the deep outline but falling short—and then falling into the outline. The girl laughed and dropped into the outline, pushing on the filly's hindquarters until she trotted free of the melted hole, making her way back to her mother.

"Thank you, Jyo," Kira said, padding over softly.

Jyoti smiled and brushed at her black wool tunic, embarrassed, searching for something to say to her adopted mother.

She had barely reached her tenth year when she was taken in by the Eryn-Gwae herd. That had been eight years past, in the 92nd year of Winter. Since then, Jyoti had been treated as one of the herd, trained to fight with weapon—from sword to staff to bow to her preferred weapon, katana. The herd taught her to hunt, to fish, to run.

She snapped back into awareness as a red-gold fox darted into the clearing. Before the fox could so much as breathe, every bow was trained on him. The fox began to laugh.

"Why the merriment, traitor?" Oreius growled, stepping closer.

"Because I'm one of the good guys. An unfortunate family resemblance means every group to which I've borne the news in the past fortnight has greeted me similarly," the fox informed them. "I bear news of Aslan. He has returned, and awaits those still loyal to him at the Stone Table."

No bow wavered so much as an inch.

"Why should we believe you?" Kira demanded. The fox looked at Jyoti.

"Because I know that she is a fallen star, condemned to life as a mortal unless she makes reparation for her rebellion," the fox explained. Jyoti stared at him, warring emotions of fear, regret, and anger flashing in her eyes. "And only those who are Friends of Aslan could possibly know that. But if you still don't believe me, call a gryphon. You know no one can lie in their presence."

"Jyo?" Kira prompted, raising her eyebrows. Jyoti bowed quickly and darted off through the trees, speeding across the frozen crust of hardened snow. Malchus, a lone gryphon and friend of the herd, lived just beyond the clearing, in a cave at the southernmost tip of the Western Woods. The journey took but a few moments for a centaur at a canter—and after nearly a decade with the herd, Jyoti's pace matched that of any full-grown centaur's.

Moments later, a tawny-winged lion burst into the clearing, bearing a grinning Jyoti on his back, clipping several trees with his wings and showering those below with snow. Malchus landed next to Oreius, shaking the snow off his wings. Oreius glared at him as he brushed snow from his bare torso, grimacing at the sting of the chill as his adopted daughter vaulted from Malchus' back, carefully staying free of the sights of the archers.

"Repeat what you said before, fox," Oreius ordered.

"Aslan has returned and awaits you just north of the Stone Table, just east of the Fords of Beruna. Narnia is preparing for war," the fox repeated. Malchus nodded.

"He speaks truth." Slowly, the bows were unstrung and put down. Jyoti leapt up, laughing merrily, and perched above Kira's head. Oreius' was response was far more dignified: he bowed deeply to the fox.

"I apologize," he said, his voice sincere.

"I understand. Don't feel bad about it; I would have done the same in your place," the fox replied. "I am called Roshan."

"And I am called Oreius. This is my mate, Kira. My herd is the Eryn-Gwae," Oreius said.

"And the Star?" Roshan asked.

"I am Jyoti," she announced, leaping from her perch and landing lightly. She bowed to Roshan, smiling.

"It is an honor, my Lady, and a pleasure. If I understand correctly, Aslan wishes to speak with you personally," he informed her.

Jyoti bowed again, eyes wide with delight, tempered with a hint of fear.

"Why is Narnia going to war?" Kira asked, still puzzled. "We cannot hope to keep Narnia for our own without the Children of Adam and Eve."

"Which would make our intentions quite foolish were the Children not in Narnia, traveling to the Stone Table themselves," Roshan answered, with a barking laugh. Kira's eyes grew large with astonishment.

"Then we will fight," Oreius decided, and Jyoti grinned. Roshan bowed his head in thanks.

"Will you travel with us to the Stone Table?" Kira offered.

"I have many more to gather," Roshan declined politely. "But I thank you. Long live Aslan!" And with that he was gone, darting back into the forest.

The herd gathered before Oreius and Kira, the four littlings darting in and out of their sires' and dams' legs.

"We will make for the Stone Table with all haste," Oreius announced. "Any whose armor is still hidden in the caves near the Cauldron Pool may gather it when we pass by there." The Eryn-Gwae herd stored battle supplies in hidden caves next to the Cauldron Pool. Jyoti's twin katana and armor were there, as were the herd's swords, staves, and larger weapons.

"Kiernan, Alus, Sothen, and Delshan, take the flanks. Mica and Falen, take the rear. Kira and I will lead. Jyo, with Kira and I." The herd quickly fell into place, forming a circle around the littlings. Jyoti smiled, making her way up to walk beside Oreius and Kira as they set out for the Stone Table.

Jyoti had been born of the union of the Morningstar, called Shahir, and the Evenstar, called Hespera. She had lived with them in the night skies, learning of Narnia, the Skies, and Aslan, the Emperor Beyond the Sea, until she was five, when she fell to earth, landing near the Witch's palace and appearing human in form. She appeared as a young child, though stars aged differently from mortals of Narnia, having fallen to earth for rebelling once too often against her parents. Maugrim's lieutenants had thrown her in the dungeons at Jadis' command, fearing that she was a Daughter of Eve. At Aslan's command, Oreius and Kira had lead a daring raid on the dungeons, breaking out a host of Aslan's followers—and the small, scared girl, hiding in the corner of her cell. Many were turned to stone in the battle to get out, but they took her into the Eryn-Gwae, raising her as their own daughter.

Their herd was one of several involved in rebellion against the White Witch, though their proximity to her castle led them to hide their activities more than some of the others who had joined their cause. Jyoti in particular needed to remain hidden, after her previous imprisonment. The bounty on her head was second in amount only to the prize offered for the capture of a Child of Adam and Eve.

When the Witch had first come into power, the Eryn-Gwae herd had been among the hardest hit. Only Oreius, Kira, and a few others had survived to revive the herd and join the rebellion, settling in the Western Wood. Now, for the first time in over four score years, they were leaving the forest. Oreius intended them to stop at the caves surrounding the Cauldron Pool, continuing along the edge of the mountain range and staying the night just west of the Telmar River. They would then cross the Telmar River southwest of the Frozen Lake, gather the Moryn herd of the Shuddering Wood, again staying the night, cross the Great River south of the Frozen Waterfall and then again at the Fords of Beruna, reaching Aslan's Camp north of the Stone Table that same day.

As the sun reached its zenith, the herd reached the caves at the Cauldron Pool.

"Gather your weapons and armor as quickly as you may," Oreius ordered. "We will leave before the next hour has passed."

Jyo ducked inside the cave, blinking as she adjusted to the dimness. She scrambled up the cave wall to the hollow stalactite that hid her belongings. Her armor she pulled out reverently: a silver-washed longsleeved black leather shirt, laced up sides and long enough to reach just past her hips, matching archer's armguards, thin silver-washed greaves with thick black straps to attach to the outsides of her boots, a slender iron chain with spaces for her scabbards. Beneath them lay several knives and daggers, made to be hidden in various locations over her body. And beneath them lay her most prized possessions: her katana. There were two of them perfectly matched, forged from the stars the birthed her, having fallen to earth on Midwinter of her fifteenth year, when she pledged, with the stars and centaurs as her witnesses, to make reparation for her wrongdoings in the skies. The long, slim blades glowed silver even in the darkness of the caves, illuminating crystal-inlaid cylindrical hilts. A thin, raised handguard at the joining of blade and hilt sparkled with delicate script, and Jyo smiled, content now that she had her blades once more. Carrying her bundle, she made her way back to the herd.

All around her, members of the herd strapped on armor rather than carry it, slipping weapons into their scabbards and strapping them on for the journey. Jyo passed her armor over to Kira, secreting her knives in various locations on her body. Two went into each boot, to be tied in place with thin strips of leather. One went on the underside of each wrist, tucked beneath the straps of her armguards. The daggers were attached to the thin gold chain she wore as a belt. A second gold chain slid over her torso, wrapped over her shoulders, criss-crossing it in the front and back, and she clipped the ends together. Attaching the scabbards to their proper places, she smiled, content. As she waited for the rest of the herd to finish gathering their weapons, she drew her katana, seating herself next to the Cauldron Pool and beginning to whet them as Kira strapped the bundle containing her daughter's armor to her flank.

At Oreius' command, the herd moved out once more, following the rocky path at the base of the mountain range. Jyoti joined Oreius and Kira once more. At the center of the herd, the littlings walked together, surrounded by their dams. Just outside them strode their sires, now armed and armored. Four of the herd's best archers circled the herd periodically, leaving two to walk on each side between cycles. In the rear strode Mica and Falen, known for their skill with the staff. Kira walked at Oreius' side, Jyoti's bundle strapped to her back. The day passed steadily as the herd drew nearer to the Telmar River, finally coming to a halt at its banks. Immediately, the males began to build fires, laying down their armor and weapons beside them. The females drew food supplies from their packs, and the littlings, weary from travel, lay down to sleep next to the fires without bothering to eat.

Jyoti sat down carefully next to Kira, groaning as muscles long unused tightened. She rolled her neck slowly, sighing with relief as her muscles began to relax.

"It would appear I'm not as good with long distances as you are," she explained, embarrassed. Kira laughed.

"Would you like your armor back?" she asked. Jyoti reached for it eagerly. "Go on and practice, daughter. You may eat when you return."

Jyoti quickly slipped on the armor, tying the straps tight and double-checking each buckle. Moving silently, she made her way past the camp sentries and onto the frozen surface of the river, balancing carefully as she went. Drawing the katana, she assumed the beginning position of a battledance.

Battledances were Kira's favorite mode of practice, patterned routines of drills and movement, designed to help a warrior practice when companions were unavailable. They involved both defensive and offensive skills, incorporating rolls, jumps, and flexibility as much as they did lunges, thrusts, and swings. As Jyoti made her way through the dance, gradually getting faster and faster, her mind slowly cleared. Her eyes began to close with concentration as her blades flashed, becoming translucent as they moved too quickly to be seen. The ice around her became scored as her blades slid across its slippery surface, the ice underneath her beginning to melt from her exertions. Almost without thought, she moved her feet in such a way so as to not lose her balance, not once using her swords or her hands to catch herself. Just when it seemed the blades could not move any faster, she spun, sheathed the blades abruptly, and smiled.

Jyoti walked back to the camp, muscles thrumming with energy, and took her seat next to Kira, leaning back against a large rock on the riverbank.

"I have not seen you glow so since the last time you had your weapons," she laughed. Jyoti smiled up at her mother, nodding her thanks as she was handed a small plate of food. All around her, the herd began to prepare for sleep, trampling down grass to make proper bedding.

"I'll take the watch, mother," Jyoti offered.

"We have plenty of guards, Jyo. Get some rest," Kira replied. Jyoti laughed.

"I'm far to awake to sleep right now. I'll stay up for a little while longer."

As Kira lay down next to Oreius, Jyoti made herself more comfortable against the rock. Against her will, her eyes began to grow heavy, and she sank slowly into sleep.


	3. Cold as Ice

"Jyo," someone whispered, shaking her. Jyoti shook her head, burrowing into Kira's warm coat. "Jyo, wake up!"

Jyoti rolled over grumpily, glaring up at whoever had dared wake her.

"What do you want, Kieran?" she growled darkly. Kieran was the youngest of the warriors, the most recent addition to their ranks. He had trained with Jyoti often when they were younger, and was known for outrageously daring risk-taking. Waking her in the middle of the night was most certainly not helping his reputation, either.

"Want to do something to help the rebellion?" Kieran asked, eyes glinting wickedly. Jyoti raised her eyebrows skeptically. Kieran's idea of "helping" more often than not included mischief and doings which Oreius heartily disapproved of. "Come on, Jyo. Stop being such a coward and think on your own for once. Jyoti bit back the retort that thinking on her own had gotten her stuck here in the first place, shaking her head.

"I was sleeping, Kieran. And if Oreius hasn't approved it, it's probably another one of your fool ideas," she replied, still grumpy.

"It's nothing that bad. We'll be helping Aslan, and the Children!" Kieran insisted. "All you have to do is foul up the Witch's carriage a bit. I overheard the warriors saying that's the one she'd use to travel a long distance—like to the Stone Table, chasing Aslan and the Children. And while you do that, I'll make some pits, and some barriers, make it harder for her to travel. Come on, Jyoti. Please?"

Jyoti sighed.

"Fine, you great lout," she agreed, getting to her feet slowly. Stiff muscles protested her lack of stretching and the wearing of armor while sleeping, and she winced. "Where am I going?"

Kieran grinned.

* * *

Jadis' carriage was a magnificent one, ice-white with frozen steel runners. The elk, too were magnificent, though dumb—they were not Talking beasts. A spiderweb of diamond-like crystals provided cover from the softly-falling snow, shimmering in the haze-filtered light. The sleigh would move silently and quickly through the snow, following the footprints of the children of Adam and Eve, when the Witch departed in the morning. Though Jadis often went out in her sleigh, the carriage was made for longer-distance travels, and was stored in a mountain cavern just outside of her palace.

Jyoti clung to the bottom of the sleigh, out of sight of its lupine guards, having slipped onto it when the sleigh crossed over a narrow crevice in the mountains in which she had hidden herself. After running nearly the whole night through, she had arrived in the mountains beyond the Witch's palace just as the moon began to set. Her feet were braced against the steel runners, holding her in place, as she loosened bolts and screws and scored the runners themselves. She had planned, originally, to cut through the runners, but time and strength betrayed her, and she sheathed her knives reluctantly as the sleigh neared the palace entrance. She glanced at the damage once more, smiling, and burst silently out behind the sleigh, the snow cushioning her fall. She rolled sideways, ducking behind a large rock. Pausing for a moment, she watched the sleigh pull away, admiring her handiwork, but shook her head. This would not be enough, not to slow the Witch. With a sigh, she rubbed her already-tight hamstrings and took off once more, moving at a steady clip over the frozen ground.

She ran on through the morning, ignoring the stitch in her side, pausing only snatch icicles for water. The route from the Witch's palace was a direct one, if long. Here, too, the snow was crusted with a hard sheet of ice, just thick enough that her feet padded softly across it with barely a sound, carrying her closer and closer to the Frozen Lake with each stride. Kieran had promised to meet her at the Shuddering Wood, informing her that she could help him with his work. The sun was well overhead by the time she reached the Frozen Lake, nearing the fifth hour after dawn. Jyoti smiled contentedly, seeing no sign of either the Witch or the Children of Adam and Eve. With Aslan's blessing, they had already crossed, but depending on their route, they could be hours behind her.

Moving rapidly, she made sets of footprints going in all different directions. She dragged logs together to make barriers, cracked ice-covered streambeds, and jumbled rocks in precariously balanced piles. She smiled, satisfied, and rose once more, turning south toward the Shuddering Wood. Confident that her impediments would slow the White Witch considerably, she relaxed, standing at the center of the Lake for a moment, soaking in the morning sun's rays. Glancing around quickly, she saw that Kieran was nowhere nearby, and seated herself on the frozen surface. She sighed with relief as the numbing cold sank into her weary muscles, banishing the pain of hours of running. The relief quickly turned to regret as she rose, seeing the sun's steady progression across the sky, and began a markedly slower trot southward, toward the Shuddering Wood and the Moryn herd.

"Jyoti!" someone hissed, and she turned around sharply, drawing her swords in one fluid motion. She sheathed them with a sigh of annoyance.

"What, Kieran?" she demanded. Her legs were putting her in a decidedly bad mood, and she was trying not to think about what Oreius would say when she got back.

"There are wolves in the forest," Kieran informed her. She groaned. "No, it's alright! You go warn the Moryn, and I'll go back and tell Oreius, so that they can come help."

"You just want to go back so you've got something with which to distract Oreius," Jyoti accused. "If you tell him there's a battle ahead, he won't yell at you for disobeying orders." Kieran cocked his head and nodded.

"That too, I suppose," he admitted, with an unrepentant grin. "I'll see you later!"

"Kieran, I didn't agr—" she started, glaring after him as he took off. "Fine. I'll just bloody well avoid the bloody wolves, while traveling to a herd I've bloody well never met, why don't I?"

Kieran, out of earshot, didn't answer.

Tired of running and more than ready to stretch her legs differently, Jyoti slowly began to ascend the oak, sliding cautiously along a thick branch until she was within jumping distance of the next band of trees. Whispering a quick prayer to Aslan for luck, she threw her body out over the divide, landing lightly and easily on the trunk of an ancient maple. Her smile broadened slowly, and she made the next jump with more confidence. She traveled from tree to tree, scanning the ground periodically, spotting, from her vantage point, the Moryn, in a clearing at the heart of the wood, numbering just over a score. She looked down sharply as movement caught her eye—wolves, four of them, as Kieran had said, just beyond the clearing. Dropping quickly to the ground and rolling to her feet, Jyoti burst into the clearing. Ignoring the bows now pointed at her, she drew her katana rapidly.

"I am Jyoti the Fallen, adopted daughter of Oreius and Kira of the Eryn-Gwae herd, and there are wolves just beyond the clearing, so you might want to aim your bows in a different direction," she said rapidly, striding toward the edge of the clearing.

The Moryn stared at her.

"They're just outside the clearing!" she snapped. "I'll prove myself to you, I promise, just turn around and defend yourselves!"

Slowly, the Moryn turned to face the edge of the clearing. The dams gathered he littlings and stood over them protectively. The wolves burst into the clearing and halted suddenly as the first to enter was immediately riddled with arrows.

"Traitors to the Queen!" their leader snarled. "You will surrender immediately and submit yourselves to the Queen's judgment.

"We will do no such thing," Aiden, leader of the Moryn herd, replied. "We will rid Narnia of you instead." The herd drew their bows once more as the three remaining wolves charged. One fell as several arrows pierced him, one just behind the neck. The second leapt at Aiden and was trampled by his hooves. The third darted through the ring of centaurs and charged at the dams and younglings. Jyoti stepped in front of him, katana held at the ready position, and cut him down quickly, before he could reach them.

"Now, prove yourself, stranger," Aiden ordered. The bows of the Moryn herd turned and aimed their bows at her once more. Jyoti knelt and wiped her katana clean on the wolf's corpse, sheathing them calmly. "You claim to be the Fallen Star of whom Oreius has spoken, and yet you appear as a mere mortal."

"I told you. I am Jyoti Fallen. I was adopted by Kira and Oreius, alphas of the Eryn-Gwae herd twelve years past. I am Aslan's loyal servant, and a traitor to the White Witch, and proud of both. If you speak of those characteristics of a star which every Narnian knows—silver skin and songs of power—then I remind you of your legends, wherein Aslan decreed that stars condemned to live on the ground have the appearance of a mortal, and that their songs are less powerful than those of True Stars," Jyoti replied. "But I am of no import here. The Eryn-Gwae herd is on its way to inform you that Aslan has returned to Narnia, and awaits all those still loyal to him at an encampment north of the Stone Table. And there is further news, if you believe that I am not here to bring you harm."

At Aiden's nod, the bows slowly lowered.

"We believe you, Jyoti Fallen. What news have you?" Aiden asked.

"Call me Jyo," Jyoti replied. "There is great news. Aslan is preparing for open war against the White Witch to bring the Four Kings and Queens to the thrones at Cair Paravel."

"Impossible," someone scoffed. "Only the Sons of Adam and the Daughters of Eve may sit on those thrones."

"And so they shall," Jyoti smiled. "Four Children of Adam and Eve arrived in Narnia not two days past. They are making for Aslan's camp. That is why Aslan has called us. We go to fight for him and for Them."

Aiden nodded, his face alight with a fierce joy.

"We will join you, Jyo, and the Eryn-Gwae herd in this fight. We, too, are loyal servants of Aslan," he replied. "How soon will your herd arrive?"

"They will be here shortly. I believe they intended to reach the Wood around noon," Jyoti said. "Oreius plans to spend the night at the woods near the Fords of Beruna."

"Then we will prepare to leave as soon as your herd arrives. May I make you known to the Moryn herd? This is my mate, Sola, and our son, Krison. My lieutenants are Cela and Coryn, and our littlings are Kelyn, daughter of Lillin and Ikos, and Ruson, son of Ithin and Koda." Aiden indicated various members of his herd, who bowed politely. Jyoti crossed her hands, placing them on her collarbone as she bowed in return. The herd moved quickly, removing weapons from hollows in the trees surrounding the clearing and armor from hiding places inside stumps.

Hoofsteps sounded just beyond the clearing, and Aiden turned as Orieus and Kira led the herd forward. Oreius and Aiden clasped hands warmly.

"Long live Aslan!" Oreius greeted him. Aiden bowed in reply. "I see that you have met my adopted daughter. I hope she did nothing to cause alarm amongst you." Jyoti caught the stern stare he shot in her direction and cringed, shrinking visibly.

"Actually, she arrived by dropping from the forest into the center of our herd. We drew bows on her, of course, and then she announced that there were wolves approaching, at which point we killed three wolves and she accounted for a fourth. And we then drew bows on her again, until she proved her identity," Aiden replied dryly.

"That sounds very much like my daughter," Kira replied. "I apologize for her recklessness. We shall be sure to speak with her about her behavior."

"We were glad for the warning," Aiden smiled. "Although we have never received one in such a fashion previously. She told us of your travel plans. We are ready to join you immediately. Shall we make for the Fords of Beruna?"

"May I speak with my daughter for a moment, Aiden?" Orieus asked politely, though Jyoti heard the icy control behind his words and winced. She'd known this was coming ever since she'd left the camp, but had hoped more time to concoct a good reply. Aiden nodded, stepping back and indicating that his herd should do the same.

Jyoti stepped forward slowly, head bowed.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" he asked, his voice deadly calm.

"I thought I could help—" she started, her voice catching meekly in her throat. She cleared it and tried again. "I just wanted to help. To rescue someone instead of being rescued, for a change." Oreius stared down at her imperiously.

"As a warrior, you endangered the safety of the entire herd," he rumbled. "You left in the middle of the night, leaving us without a sentry. If you had been caught, can you tell me that you would not have given us up? That you would not have been broken? And not only did you betray your herd, you betrayed your mother and I! Sneaking off at night to Aslan-knows-where—what were you thinking?"

"I wasn't thinking," Jyoti whispered, barely audible. "I apologize for my actions, and accept responsibility. I was wrong."

"Very wrong indeed," Kira interjected, her voice cold. Jyoti cringed. "For the rest of this journey, you will not speak. You will walk in silence and consider your actions. And when we reach Aslan's camp, if he still wishes to speak with you as Roshan said, you will present to him a full account of your actions. Am I understood?"

Jyoti nodded silently, and Kira stepped back.

"Shall we join the Moryn, Oreius?" she asked, turning away from Jyoti.

Oreius nodded his acquiescence, and the herds merged swiftly. Aiden's lieutenants joined Mica and Falen at the rear of the herds, while several other males joined Kiernan, Alus, Sothen and Delshan at the flanks. Aiden, Sola, Oreius, and Kira led the herds together as Jyoti walked just behind her parents, relieved to be walking, though her legs still ached. The littlings mingled eagerly as the herds passed over the Archen River, wading carefully through the melted waters. Jyo noticed it, confused, and made a private note to ask Kira about it when they reached their destination. The herds moved north and east, reaching the Fords of Beruna just as the sun hung above the horizon.

* * *

Author's Note: So, a bit of a filler chapter--I realize this is starting out slow, but it really will get better, I promise. Besides, the big battle scene is coming up, and you wouldn't want to miss that...

Other than that, I don't really have all that many responses to make. But here goes!

MyBlueOblivion: No apology at all is necessary! I'm really quite grateful that you caught my mistakes for me. I probably would not have noticed until this week otherwise, so thank you! I shall do my best to be relatively canonical (I'm not sure that's the right term, but you know what I mean).

OutlawAuthor: The tree doesn't get too badly beat up...and in reference to your first review, it's perfectly fine. You're in college, remember? The only free time is (if you're lucky) on weekends. And who wants to beta on weekends?


	4. Thaw

The Eryn-Gwae and Moryn herds were long gone by the time the sun had breached the horizon, too anxious to reach Aslan's encampment to sleep. Glimmers of red and gold caught Jyoti's eye as they crested the last hill before Aslan's Camp, and she padded gently next to Kira as they paused before the faun standing sentry at the Southern entrance to the camp.

"Welcome to you, servants of Aslan," he greeted them, bowing politely.

"We are honored to have come," Oreius replied.

Together, the herds entered the camp. They made their way toward Aslan's tent at the eastern edge of the camp. The herd bowed as one and Jyoti knelt as the tent-flap rippled, and Aslan stood before them.

"Welcome, Oreius and Kira, leaders of the Eryn-Gwae. Welcome, Aiden and Sola, leaders of the Moryn. And welcome to you, Jyoti Fallen. We are glad to have you all," Aslan hailed them, his voice warm. "Go, for there have been tents prepared for you." The herds rose and left.

_Wait, Fallen Star._ Aslan's voice echoed in Jyoti's mind, and she paused, turning to face him once more, her face full of fear.

"Come into my tent, Daughter of the Skies," he ordered. Jyoti bowed her head, following him in. "Be seated."

She took a seat cross-legged on the floor, not daring to look up.

"I know of your past, Jyoti," he began. Jyoti wished she could melt into the floor, her face turning red with shame. "I know that you refused to shine in the night skies, saying that mortals were below you, and for that I sent you here. I wished you to learn humility, patience, discipline, and honor. How have you fared in your time here?"

"I—I am good, Aslan," she said hesitantly. Aslan looked at her curiously.

"You work hard?" She nodded. "You have learned discipline, in mastering your weapons?" Jyoti nodded again, remembering painful hours spent training with Oreius' heavy sword to develop the strength for her lighter ones. "You follow Oreius' and Kira's orders?" Jyoti paused.

"Yes, Aslan," she said finally, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Truly, Daughter?" Aslan asked. "You have never sneaked away in the middle of the night, when all were sleeping?" Jyoti looked down, ashamed to be caught in a lie.

"I just wanted to do something to help," she said feebly.

"I am not here to condemn you, daughter," Aslan said gently. "Your intentions were good, and your heart was in the right place."

"But you sent me here, for what I did wrong before," Jyoti protested, confused. Aslan chuckled softly.

"I do not expect you to be perfect, either with your true parents or here in Narnia," he explained. "I want you to _try. _To regain your place in the skies, you are to work hard on earth. Do you understand now, daughter?"

Thoroughly chastised, Jyoti nodded. Aslan nudged her bowed shoulders.

"Do not be troubled, Jyoti," he ordered. "You will have your moment, though it may have been different had you obeyed your orders."

"What would have happened?" Jyoti asked, voice wavering.

"None of us is ever to know what would have been," Aslan informed her. "But what you do in the future is far more important than what you have done in the past. Go now, and prepare your weapons for battle. You will know when the Children come."

"Thank you, Aslan," Jyoti said, rising hastily and bowing. Aslan smiled benevolently and nodded in return, pausing to hold open the tent-flap.

She was unsurprised to see Kira at the smithing area, putting edges on her glaive.

"I expected you'd join me soon," Kira told her, without looking up. Jyoti bit her lip, searching for a response.

"I'm sorry," she blurted finally. Kira looked up, face carefully blank. "I shouldn't have gone off without permission, I just really wanted to do something important, something that would help, and make a big diff—"

She stopped as Kira held up one hand, shaking her head.

"I understand, daughter," she said, smiling.

"You're not mad at me?" Jyoti asked, astonished.

"I was frightened, and disappointed, daughter," Kira explained. "Never angry. I know what you did what you did. So let's put it behind us, and prepare for the battle—agreed?"

"Agreed," Jyoti replied, smiling with relief.

"Now. Not to get rid of you, but you need your weapons checked," Kira suggested. "The dwarves would be more than willing to heat your katana and hammer them as necessary. Go see Trin, the Master Smith."

"I can fix my own weapons," Jyoti protested, affronted. Kira raised a single eyebrow.

"Not nearly as well as the dwarven smiths can, daughter," she replied firmly. "Go, and have them repaired." Jyoti turned slowly and made her way over to the stout, red-headed dwarf shouting orders to his subordinates, her frustration dissipating as she saw examples of his craft around him.

"Master Trin?" she asked hesitantly.

"What is it, missy?" he replied, his voice gravelly but kind.

"I've need of your expertise," Jyoti replied, reaching for her weapons. She drew both katana from their sheaths on her back and presented them with an elegant flourish, offering them hilt-first to the dwarf. He took one from her, balancing it carefully on one finger, frowning slightly as he ran expert hands down the blade.

"Star-metal, single-bladed, three-quarter blood channel, curved tip," he mused, ignoring her completely. Grasping the hilt with iron tongs, he held it in the flames until it glowed white-hot. With a satisfied smile, he placed on his anvil, hammering down the edge until it met his approval before accepting the second katana and repeating the process.

"These need a good polishing, and a fresh edge put on them," Trin informed her. "I can do that for ye too, if ye like, but I've many orders to fill."

"I can whet them and polish them," Jyoti assured him. "But I thank you." She bowed deeply, and Trin nodded absently as she made her way back toward Kira. She stopped, hiding a smile behind one hand as she caught sight of Kieran's punishment.

He stood next to the largest fire, a towering pile of weapons so old and rusty Jyoti wondered that they did not fall apart at his side. He flinched as the fire roared up at the prompting of the bellows, holding a sword under the flame.

"Having fun, Kieran?" she asked, dropping her hand and grinning broadly. He scowled at her.

"You only got out of trouble because you're their daughter, Jyo," he whined. "It's not fair."

"I got in trouble, Kieran," she replied, still grinning. "But apparently Oreius respects those who do not attempt to duck responsibility for their action. Who knew?"

Kieran's scowl deepened, but he gave no reply, taking out his anger on the worn swordblade on his anvil. Jyoti waved merrily and trotted back toward Kira with the intention of polishing and whetting her weapons, chuckling slightly to herself at Kieran's punishment. She had only just drawn her first katana when the trumpet rang out, announcing a new arrival.

"The Children!" Kira gasped, racing toward the entrance. Jyoti flew in the opposite direction, halting next to Oreius, near Aslan's tent.

"They come?" she asked breathlessly.

"They come," he agreed. Jyoti leaned forward in expectation, and saw the five figures before Aslan's tent.

Two were beavers, thick-furred and humble. Next to them was a small, brown-haired girl with a dagger and a vial at her waist, openly awed. She smiled unconsciously, warmed by the girl's innocence and drawn by her eagerness. Her sister was darker and more serious, a well-made bow and quiver over one shoulder and a horn hanging from a strap over her chest. Between them stood the eldest brother, confident and well-built. His hair shimmered gold, like Aslan's, above rich blue eyes. She stared as he offered his sword to Aslan.

"Welcome, He-Beaver and She-Beaver. Welcome, Susan and Lucy, Daughters of Eve. Welcome, Peter, Son of Adam. But where is the fourth?" Aslan asked.

Jyoti dimly heard Peter's explanation of betrayal and Oreius' angry outburst. On Peter's face she saw remorse; on Susan's, stoicism; on Lucy's, heartbreak. She bit her tongue to keep from crying out at the depth of emotion radiating from the children. Aslan's eyes flickered to her and away, so quickly she thought she might have imagined it. He dismissed the children quietly.

_Jyoti, have you finished preparing your weapons?_ he asked.

" No, but it may wait, if there's something I can do to help," she replied eagerly, stepping closer. Aslan chuckled.

"Go into my tent and bring the Pevensie children fresh clothes," he ordered her, shaking his head fondly.

She bowed and slipped into his tent, unnoticed by the crowd, which was staring after the Children. She hadn't really looked at it before, too consumed by her fear of what would happen to glance around. The tent was sparsely decorated, lit by white candles. A woven reed mat lay on the floor, topped by a golden quilt. Next to it lay clothes for the Pevensies—a forest-green dress and slippers for Susan, a pale blue dress and boots for Lucy, and a dark blue tunic with leggings and boots for Peter. Aslan nodded gravely as she passed him, making toward the girls' tent first. She pushed aside the flap and peered inside to see the Daughters of Eve attempting to freshen up their travel-worn clothes.

"If it please my Ladies, Aslan sends these to you." Jyoti smiled, trying not to show her awe, offering them the dresses and shoes.

"I'm not a lady, just Lucy!" the younger one protested. Jyoti bowed.

"Lucy, then. Need you aid with your lacings?" Susan shook her head. Jyoti bowed once more and turned to leave the tent.

"What is your name?" Lucy asked. Jyoti turned back to her.

"I am Jyoti. Jyoti Fallen," she said quietly.

"Thank you, Jyoti," Lucy replied, smiling. Jyoti smiled back and turned to leave once more—

—and ran straight into the Son of Adam.

"My Lord, I am so sorry!" she stammered. "Are you alright?"

"Who are you, and why are you in my sisters' tent?" he demanded. Jyoti was taken aback.

"Aslan sent me with fresh clothes. For you, too." She offered him the last of her bundle, and bowed hastily. "My Lord."

"Peter Pevensie," he said. "I'm sorry for my rudeness. It was unwarranted."

"Jyoti Fallen," she replied. "No apology is necessary, my Lord. Have any of you any need at all, you need only ask. If you need to find me, I stay with Oreius' herd, the Eryn-Gwae, next to the smithies." Jyoti bowed a final time and left, wandering slowly back to the smithing area, greeting various gryphons, fauns, centaurs and animals as she went.

She joined Kira once more as she drew her first katana, examining it carefully. The hurried whetting job she had performed at the Cauldron Pool had missed several nicks, now hammered into place by Master Trin. Making her way over to the whetstone, she began to put a better edge on it, honing it until it sliced a single hair as she placed it on the edge. Satisfied, she continued the process with her other blades, going through them one by one until she was certain that they were ready for battle.

Kira glanced over at her adopted daughter several times, slightly puzzled. Jyoti had never seemed so distracted while preparing her weapons. It was clear that her mind was elsewhere, but she had no idea as to where it might be.

"Jyo, is there something on your mind?" she asked finally, breaking the silence. Jyoti glanced at her adopted mother, puzzled. She opened her mouth to reply just as Oreius galloped past, strapping on a sword as he went.

"Oreius, what is it?" she called, leaping to her feet. She set off after him until she drew up next to him, racing effortlessly alongside her adoptive father.

"The Elder Queen has a horn to call for help, and she blew it a moment past," he replied grimly. Jyoti and her father raced through the camp, joined as they went by several other fighters. The creek at which the Queens had been playing was but a breath beyond the camp's perimeter, but the raw fear on Oreius' face drove them to run faster and raster.

They increased their speed without a second thought, racing until they caught up with Aslan, who had a grey wolf pinned under his paw. Peter faced a second wolf, holding his sword like any green fighter—point out, straight ahead. Oreius drew his hand-and-a-half sword and started forward, but Aslan halted him.

"Stay back," he ordered sternly. "This is Peter's battle."

Jyoti watched anxiously as Peter stabbed Maugrim, heaving a silent sigh of relief as his sisters pushed the wolf off and hugged him. Aslan let the wolf under his paw up.

"Follow him. He will lead you to Edmund," he told them. Jyoti joined the dozen warriors racing after that grey-brown shape, weaving in and out of trees, in dimmer and dimmer light.

"We will create a diversion," Oreius decided, his voice clear but soft as they ran. "Carry the Younger King back to the camp. Aslan says he is smaller than you, and I know that you are strong enough, my daughter." Jyoti nodded in silent assent when he glanced over at her, and the others drew various weapons as the perimeter of the Queen's camp came into view.

Oreius and the others burst into the midst of Jadis' warriors, drawing all eyes to them. Jyoti looked around frantically, spotting the Younger King tied to a tree. Within seconds, she had untied all but his wrists, finding him unconscious from lack of air. With a grunt of effort, she dragged him upright, pulling his still-bound hands over her head and carrying him pig-a-back as she slipped past the warring factions and trotted slowly but steadily through the forest. His shivering slowed, then stopped , and his eyes opened. He began to struggle.

"Peace, my King," she reassured him, her voice calming. "I am sent by Aslan, to return you to your family. "The boy stropped struggling, but his body was still tense.

"They won't want me back, after what I did," he croaked, then coughed hoarsely, wincing. She gripped his legs tightly, keeping him from sliding off.

"I would not be so sure of that, my King," Jyoti replied softly, though she panted from effort. "Had you seen their faces when they told Aslan what had befallen you, you might think differently. They blame themselves for all that has happened." She hesitated, then added, "They truly care about you." She glanced over her shoulder when he did not respond, and saw that the King was crying.

"My King, what is wrong?" she asked, worried. He shook his head.

"I have missed them," he said simply. Jyoti nodded sagely as the trees began to clear, revealing Aslan's tent at the base of the hills.

"Are you able to walk, my King?" she asked, pausing at the hill's peak. He slid down from her back, nodding, as he placed stiff, twisted limbs on the ground. He staggered slightly from the weight, biting his lip at the pins and needles in his legs. "Lean on me, King Edmund." Drawing a knife, she slit the last bindings, loosing his hands. He rubbed them together gingerly, wincing and blowing on them as we swayed in place. He nodded to her, ready to begin the last of their journey. Jyoti slipped one of his arms over her shoulders, bearing him until he could walk on his own. They halted just before Aslan's tent.

"If you need me, just call my name, or ask any of the others in the camp to find me," she told him.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"Jyoti Fallen, my King," she bowed.

" Edmund," he corrected.

"Edmund, then," Jyoti agreed. "Now, go in. He has waited long to see you." She smiled, watching him enter, and slowly returned to the Eryn-Gwae. The herd was already asleep, and Jyoti had barely enough energy to remove her weapons and armor before falling asleep against Kira's flank.

* * *

Author's Note: so...not all that much to say this chapter. Except that I am very sad that I received few reviews....though, of course, the ones I did received made up for the lack of quantity with their quality! Would that all reviewers were as marvelous as MyBlueOblivion and OutlawAuthor...well, there'd be better reviews, I suppose. Anywho, beg pardon for the abruptness of this chapter. I'm working on four other stories currently--two about to be published up here, one already published and in progress, and one that's just for me. I should probably put one on hiatus, but I love them all too much. So review away, and inspire me to write more!


	5. Stormclouds

The sun was high in the sky—at least three hours past dawn—by the time Jyoti awoke. The herd was gone, moving about the camp, and Jyoti slipped into her armor and weapons, wincing at the stiffness in her limbs. She had done more running in the past few days than she cared to remember, and it appeared that her legs had decided to demand attention at last. She hobbled, stiff-legged, toward Oreius, who stifled a chuckle at her infirmity. Jyoti glared at him, trying not to wince.

"It would appear you are in need of some aid, daughter," Oreius said gravely, hiding a smile. Jyoti nodded.

"I can barely walk," she moaned. Oreius laughed.

"Very well then, daughter," he agreed. "Take a seat, and I will see what I may do." He folded his legs beneath him, seating himself carefully, and took one leg in his human hands. He began to knead the stiff muscles as though they were dough, and Jyoti bit her lip to keep from crying out. Slowly, as his hands worked the muscles, the tension began to ease out of them, leaving only warmth and tingling.

"Your mother told me you had apologized to her?" he asked mildly, still massaging her legs. Jyoti nodded.

"And yet you had not approached me to do the same?" he asked, his voice devoid of emotion. All color washed from her face, and she stared up at him. He chuckled, tugging her braid lightly. "I tease, daughter." Jyoti let out a sigh of relief.

"I did apologize to you, when you first confronted me," she protested. "I do want to prove to you that I'm ready to be a warrior of the herd, truly." Oreius smiled.

"I believe that you are a good fighter, if impetuous," he replied, serious. "I would be honored to fight beside my daughter when Aslan leads us into battle."

Jyoti grinned so broadly it seemed as though her face would split, and she hugged her father tightly. Oreius laughed, hugging her back, then brushing off his hands as he finished working her tight muscles.

"Thank you, father," Jyoti said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"You are most welcome, daughter," Oreius replied fondly, tugging her braid. "Now, go. I must speak with Aslan. I will see you on the practice fields, later. But I believe that if you were to head to the archery buttes, you might find some who need training." Jyoti nodded, although he could no longer see her, and rose gingerly, testing her muscles. They were still tired, though not nearly as sore and stiff as they had been, and she began a slow trot toward the archery buttes at the far side of the camp.

Rows of targets at varying distances lined the buttes, some littered with arrows, some marked with holes. Several members of the herd were there, practicing, and Jyoti waved to them as she walked by, heading for the two small figures at the end of the row.

"Good morning, Queen Susan, Queen Lucy." She bowed. The girls looked at her, startled, then smiled. "How fares your bow, Queen Susan?"

"Lucy's knife-throwing is more accurate," Susan replied wryly.

"First, Queen Lucy, never throw your weapon away. It leaves you unarmed," Jyoti informed her. "Second, Queen Susan, may I help you with your form? I do not doubt that you will make an excellent archer." Susan hesitated, then nodded. "Draw your bow." Susan obeyed. Jyoti stepped behind her, adjusting her fingers, arms, and posture.

"One foot forward, one foot back for stability," she explained. "This arm straight, but do not lock your elbow. First and second fingers hold the arrow. Now, sight down the arrow and fire."

The arrow thudded into the target just wide of the innermost ring, and Susan smiled. Lucy and Jyoti applauded, and Jyoti turned to Lucy as Susan drew a second arrow, repeating the process. Jyoti turned back, distracted, and smiled as Susan's arrow stuck just inside of her previous shot.

"Now, Queen Lu—" she began, and froze as a blot of pure white, surrounded by dark brown forms, appeared on the plain below them, hands trembling.

"What is it?" Lucy asked nervously.

"The White Witch comes," Jyoti whispered. "We need to get back to Aslan."

"What does she want?" Lucy asked, worried.

"Edmund," Susan replied grimly, hiking up her skirts. The three raced toward camp, Jyoti torn between a need to stay with and protect the Queens and a need to find and warn the Kings. The appearance of the He-Beaver settled her question.

"Beaver!" she called as they passed him. "Warn the Kings. The White Witch comes, and she wants Edmund." Beaver darted off through the grass. As they drew nearer to Aslan's tent, the girls encountered a thick crowd between them and Aslan. Jyoti, impatient, drove her elbows into those blocking their path, grasping the Daughters of Eve by the hand and pulling them to the front of the crowd. They were quickly joined by Peter and Edmund, and Jyoti slipped to their side, striving to appear as unobtrusive as possible.

The Witch's dwarf preceded her, shouting titles. The crowd booed and hissed, until the Witch rose and spoke.

"You have a traitor in your midst, Aslan."

Peter gripped his swordhilt tightly as, behind him, Jyoti wrapped her fingers around the hilts of her katanas, sliding them partially free of their sheaths.

"His offence was not against you," Aslan said mildly.

"Have you forgotten the Laws upon which Narnia was built?" Jadis asked.

"Do not cite the Deep Magic to me, Witch," Aslan snarled. "I was there when it was written." The Witch took a step back, intimidated.

"Then you'll remember well," she recovered uncertainly, "that every traitor belongs to me. His blood is my property."

"Try and take him then," Peter dared, his voice taut with anger. The Witch laughed.

"Do you really think mere force can deny me my right, little king?" she demanded. "Aslan knows that unless I have blood, all of Narnia will be overturned and perish in fire and water."

The crowd began to murmur uncertainly as Jadis' arm rose, ramrod straight, to point accusingly at Edmund.

"That boy will die on the Stone Table, as is tradition," the Witch finished. "You dare not refuse me."

"Enough," Aslan said wearily. "I shall speak with you alone."

Nearly an hour passed as they all waited anxiously. Jyoti amused herself making shapes out of woven grass—first weapons, then animals. Lucy turned around to watch, and her siblings followed. She tried her hardest to make them laugh, and occasionally succeeded. A woven green kitten sat in Lucy's lap, the ears flicking back and forth as Lucy wound the tail. Susan smiled at the miniature horse that pranced and bucked in front of her each time she pressed down its hindquarters. Tossing an eagle made of grass and fallen leaves into the air, Jyoti smiled as Edmund followed the its progress around him until he grew too dizzy and fell over, to the great amusement of his siblings. Jyoti hesitated, then shaped a wolf and Peter, reenacting the previous day's battle. A small smile tugged at his lips, broadening as he took in his siblings' delight. Jyoti cleared her throat quietly. Oreius raised his eyebrows, and she indicated Aslan's tent with a flick of her head.

The siblings stood rapidly as the tent flap opened and first the Witch, then Aslan emerged.

"She has renounced her claim on the Son of Adam's blood," Aslan announced. The crowd burst into applause, and Edmund's siblings hugged him. Jyoti smiled.

"But how do I know that this promise will be kept?" the Witch demanded

The crowd froze, staring. The Witch had eyes only for Aslan, glaring imperiously. The silence was broken by ferocious growl, and even Jyoti was frightened. Aslan very rarely angered, and was all the more fearsome in his wrath for its rarity.

The Witch fled rapidly, and the crowd laughed. But Aslan turned slowly away and returned to his tent, and only Lucy saw.

* * *

Author's Note: no infringement intended, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. I know this is kinda short, but I'll update sooner than usual...if you leave me reviews. Please?

~the scarlet phoenix


	6. Calm Before the Storm

Jyoti slept peacefully that night. Which to her, in retrospect, was painfully ironic. She rose at dawn, as usual, and went through a quick weaponless battledance, making use of her body as a weapon rather than her swords. She much preferred to have a blade of some sort while fighting, but Oreius had insisted that she be able to defend herself if disarmed. The pre-dawn air was chilly—or it would have been, had she been able to feel it. Kira believed her insensitivity to cold to be due to her time as a star, in the vast, cold, emptiness of space. Jyoti didn't pay the matter much heed, preferring not to dwell overmuch on her former home.

As she finished the dance, she realized Oreius was nowhere to be found. Frowning, she trotted through the camp, peering around tents and among the smithies, her frown deepening as she still could not find him. Puzzled, she paused by the tent of the Daughters of Eve, half-listening.

She heard nothing.

"My Queens?" she asked cautiously. "Queen Susan? Queen Lucy?" She lifted the flap and looked in.

They were gone.

She took off at a dead sprint for Aslan's tent, skidding to a halt in front of Oreius and the Kings. She bowed hastily.

"The Daughters of Eve are gone," she gasped. No one seemed surprised.

"The Dryad told them," Oreius said gently.

"They followed Aslan," Peter added, his voice hoarse. A premonitory shiver ran down Jyoti's spine. "He gave himself in sacrifice at the Stone Table."

She stumbled backwards, eyes wide and unseeing, their normal dark brown tingeing an ethereal, glowing silver. A thin, piercing wail rose higher and higher, echoing around them, and Jyoti dimly realized that she was its source. She stared at Oreius, eyes now fully silver, and Peter and Edmund stepped back, startled.

"I would not have lived without him," she whispered, tears beginning to fall. Peter frowned, seeing no water-stains on the ground as they fell. He reached forward and caught one, examining it.

"You cry tears of light?" he asked, astonished.

"Starlight," Jyoti replied, her voice still soft and pain-filled. "But only when a sorrow is nigh on too much to bear."

Oreius' face softened.

"We all mourn him, daughter," he said gently. "But channel your anger and sorrow, and fight." Jyoti nodded slowly, and turned to the Kings.

"I apologize, my Kings, and humbly beg forgiveness for my actions." She knelt before them, head bowed. Peter stepped forward and rested his hands on her shoulders.

"Come fight for us," he asked softly.

"It will be an honor to fight for you, my King," she said softly, and rose. "I will do it, and gladly, for Aslan's sake."

"Good, because we will need you," Oreius said grimly, laying out several maps of the battlefield. "The centaurs will lead the center flank, with dwarves on the left and fauns on the right. The Talking Beasts will intersperse themselves and take orders from the nearest flank leader. Kira will take several of the female archers to the hilltop overlooking the fields, and Malchus will lead the gryphons and eagles from the skies. I take it you will lead the charge, my Kings?"

"Actually," Peter said cautiously, "I'd like Edmund to join the ranks on the hilltops." Oreius raised his eyebrows, but nodded his acquiescence. Edmund, however, did not.

"Peter, I have just as much a reason as you to fight. And I don't plan to sit on my arse where I can't do anything!" he argued.

"Lucy and Susan have to return eventually," Peter replied. "If they aren't back before the battle, one of us needs to be there to protect them."

"You'd go to battle and leave your sisters behind? Not knowing where they are, or what's happened to them?" Edmund demanded.

"I have to fight, Ed," Peter replied solemnly. "And Oreius says that the Dryads are keeping watch over them." Edmund looked at him silently, and slowly nodded his head.

"I will ride with you, King Peter, at the head of the charge," Oreius finished. "Jyo, will you ride with us?" Jyoti nodded silently.

"Do you approve, King Peter?" Oreius asked. Peter looked surprised. "You are, after all, our commander-in-chief."

"Yes, I suppose," he replied slowly. "I'm afraid I know next to nothing about battles or tactics, though."

"I am glad to assist, my King," Oreius responded gravely. "If I may suggest it, using the charge to draw in the Witch's forces and then retreating to a more defensible position might be wise. Kira's archers can help to cover the retreat if needed."

"Won't they be too far off to do any good?" Edmund asked. Oreius shook his head.

"They may be far, but they are strong and can shoot long distances. Still, my King, you make a good argument. We have not enough archers to cover the retreat entirely," he answered.

"We could use the Phoenix," Jyoti offered. "Though I don't know how we might call him."

"Who is the Phoenix?" Peter asked, puzzled.

"A fire-bird," Oreius explained. "He can travel from one fire to the next, and control flame in any way he wishes. He is a Talking Beast, as well."

"Supposing the archers were to use fire arrows," Peter offered. "Could he emerge wherever the arrow lands, and cause a great deal of distraction?"

"He can do better than that, my Lord," Oreius replied, and Jyoti grinned. "He can come out and remain on fire, and burn a wall of flame before the Witch's army. Should that help to cover the retreat sufficiently?"

"I believe that will do perfectly," Peter replied, his grin matching hers. "You are certain, Oreius?"

"It will work, my King," Oreius replied. "This is all we may do, as far as battle-plans go. This battle will rely primarily on the quick responses of the commanders under you, and our tactics."

"I thought these were tactics," Peter responded.

"No, my King," Oreius answered. "These are strategies. Strategies are the plans one makes before battle, and tactics—"

"Are what you make up once it all goes to chaos," Jyoti finished.

"I was going to say, 'tactics are how you respond to changes in your enemy's strategy,' but yes, you are correct, daughter," Oreius smiled. "Now, my Kings, I would advise you to eat well before we leave to fight. Food can be brought to your tents, if you would like."

"Actually, might we eat with the other soldiers?" Peter asked hesitantly.

"That can easily be arranged," Oreius replied. "Daughter, will you show them to the mess area by our tents?" Jyoti bowed, smiling, and gestured for the Kings to follow her.

"Did he call you his daughter?" Peter asked curiously. "I don't mean to be rude, but there doesn't seem to be much of a family resemblance." Jyoti laughed aloud.

"Oreius adopted me twelve years ago, after he and his mate, Kira rescued me," she replied, still smiling.

"Where did they rescue you from?" Edmund asked. Her smile slowly faded.

"They raided the Witch's Palace, and lost many of their tribe," Jyoti replied. "It wasn't just me they rescued, but I had nowhere else to go, and they took me in.

"I'm sorry," Peter replied softly. She shook her head, a glimmer of a smile reappearing.

"What is done is done, my King. I am more than ready to fight back, after too many years of hiding," Jyoti answered. "How came you to Narnia?"

"Through a wardrobe, in the spare room in the Professor's house," Edmund replied. Jyoti looked puzzled.

"Through a hidden door," Peter simplified.

"By Magic, then?" Jyoti asked. Peter nodded.

"We fell through by accident, but yes, by Magic, I suppose," he replied.

"I do not believe it was accident that brought you here, my Kings," Jyoti answered. "Oreius always says that there are no accidents." There was an awkward lull in the conversation, and so they entered the centaurs' mess area in silence.

"Mother, have we enough to share?" Jyoti asked, ignoring the stares of the herd. "The Kings desired to eat with us. My Kings, this is my mother, Kira."

"There is plenty," Kira replied, recovering her composure. "There isn't much variety, but there is toast, and apples, and fresh-caught salmon. Would you care for some, my Kings?"

"Pleased to meet you, Kira," Peter replied. "Please, call me Peter. And that sounds wonderful."

"The pleasure is mine," Kira responded politely, turning to face Edmund. "Would you care for some as well, my King?"

"Yes, thank you," Edmund replied. "And Peter's right, I'm just Edmund."

"Well then, Peter and Edmund," Kira said carefully, "please do join us for breakfast." Peter and Edmund sat down awkwardly at the low table, and Jyoti stifled a giggle at her mother's obvious awe.

"It's somewhat strange," Peter mused aloud.

"What is?" Edmund asked, spreading jam on his toast.

"Well, just seating here, eating a perfectly normal breakfast, with a centaur and a human from another world, getting ready to fight a war," Peter replied matter-of-factly.

"Oh, no," Jyoti laughed. "I wish I could be called a Daughter of Eve, but I'm only a fallen star."

"That's impossible," Edmund protested. "Stars in our world are huge, burning balls of gas."

"That's what stars are made of, yes," Jyoti explained. "But here, in Narnia, stars are beings, too, living in the night skies."

"Why don't you live in the sky?" Peter asked, curious. Jyoti's smile faded.

"I Fell from the heavens, for committing disobediences," she said quietly. "I am in Narnia to make reparations." Her smile came back as she added, "But I have found that I am glad to be here for more than just reparations. I have a family, and friends, and something to fight for."

"So we're actually eating breakfast—a perfectly normal breakfast—with a centaur and a Fallen Star," Peter clarified.

"I can see how that might be strange," Edmund said thickly, as the jam-and-toast now filled his mouth. Jyoti laughed aloud at that, nearly choking on her apple as she did so. "I mean, before a few days ago, only one of those nouns existed in our world."

"What do you mean, m—Ed?" Kira asked.

"Well, where we come from, there is a war going on, but there's no such thing as centaurs, or phoenixes, or fauns, or any of this. Just humans," Edmund replied, setting down his toast. "But they still fight plenty."

"Our dad's off in the war right now, and mum sent us into the country to keep us safe," Peter said. "This probably isn't what she intended. I told Ed to take our sisters home, so that they'd be safe, but Ed doesn't like listening to me." Edmund laughed.

"I'm afraid I'll never learn," he replied, placing one hand dramatically over his heart. "Alas for my stubbornness!" Peter burst into laughter, shoving his brother jokingly. Jyoti smiled wistfully.

"Fear not, my King," Kira interjected. "My daughter is not known for her listening skills either."

"Mother!" Jyoti groaned. "I only have problems listening to orders I don't like!" The whole table burst into laughter at that, Jyoti included.

"So how exactly do we get ready for a battle?" Edmund asked, spreading jam on yet another slice of toast.

"If you would like, I can take you and your brother to the smithies, to check your weapons. And I believe that there is armor for you at your tent, which I can help you with, if needed," Jyoti replied.

"I don't know," Peter said hesitantly, before grinning broadly. "Ed might have to leave that toast, and I don't know if he can do that." This time, the whole table joined in the laughter, drawing stares from those around them.

"I shall simply take my toast with me," Edmund said haughtily, rising. "So there." Peter rose hastily, offering Jyoti a hand up.

"Thank you so much for breakfast," Peter added. He bowed politely, and Kira smiled.

"I am glad I could be of service," Kira replied. "Go, daughter. Oreius will call for his lieutenants shortly, and after that, the flank commanders. Peter and Edmund will need to be there, armed and armored."

"I'll see what I can do about that," Jyoti smiled. "I will see you again before we leave for battle, mother. If you would follow me?" Peter and Edmund nodded. Jyoti led the way to the smithies, ignoring the whispers that arose in their wake. She headed straight for the dwarf leader, Peter and Edmund trailing behind her.

"Master Trin?" The dwarf turned and almost toppled backward, eyes widening, and bowed hastily.

"I am honored to make your acquaintance, my Kings. What may I do for you?" Trin asked, still bowing.

"Jyoti said that we need to ensure that our weapons are battle-ready," Peter began.

"May I see your sword, my King?" Trin asked, holding out his hands. Peter drew his sword carefully, laying it in Trin's hands. Trin accepted it reverently, turning it over to examine it from all angles. "This sword is in perfect condition, my King. It needs no repair, not even the use of the whetstone. It will serve you well in battle." Peter took his sword back.

"And what of you, my King?" Trin asked, turning to Edmund. Edmund handed over his sword as well, surrendering it to Trin's experienced eye. "This needs a fresh edge." Trin drew out a small whetsone, sliding along the swordlblade rapidly.

"Where did you get your sword, m—Peter?" Jyoti asked.

"It was a gift from Father Christmas," Peter admitted. Jyoti's eyes widened.

"Father Christmas has been here?" she asked hopefully.

"He came bearing gifts for us—a horn and bow for Susan, a dagger and the juice of the fireflower for Lucy, and a sword and shield for me," Peter smiled. "He said they were tools, not toys, but that we would find uses for them nonetheless."

"He has not been here for a full century," Jyoti explained. "I have heard of him from Kira and Oreius, but I've never seen him. I take it your brother was not with you at the time?"

"I was in the Witch's dungeons, actually," Edmund interjected. Jyoti tensed slightly, hands clenching at her sides.

"Are you alright?" Peter asked quickly. Jyoti shook her head to clear it.

"I am fine," she replied. "I am sorry for your imprisonment, my King. I remember well what it was like."

"I told you, call me Ed—" Edmund began.

"You said were in the palace?" Peter interrupted.

"Five years in her cells," Jyoti whispered. "In the ice and the dark, shut away from the world." She fell silent, and shook her head to clear it. "It is in the past."

"Your sword is ready, my King," Trin said, breaking the awkward silence. Edmund accepted his sword back, sheathing it quietly.

"Need you help with your armor?" Trin asked. Peter shook his head.

"Jyoti has already offered us her aid, but thank you," he replied.

"I am glad to have been of service to you, my Kings." Trin bowed deeply as they left. The walk from the smithies to the tents was not a long one, but it passed in silence nonetheless. Peter stopped short at the sight of the suits of armor on metal stands in front of their tents.

"How does that even get put on?" he asked, completely confused. Jyoti laughed.

"I can help with that," she replied, smiling. "Take off your shirts and tunics, and put on these instead." She handed them quilted, felted aketons in a dark burgundy.

"Which one's a tunic?" Edmund asked, puzzled. Jyoti tugged on the hem of his outer garment.

"Now, put them on. Oreius expects you shortly, for the meeting of the generals, and we will leave shortly after that." Jyoti ordered, nodding as the two complied. She took from the stands mail leggings and shirts. "Put these on over your breeches and shirt, but your tunics first."

"This is much lighter than I expected," Peter commented, surprised, as he slipped the shirt on. "And not as uncomfortable as I thought it would be, either."

"Is it supposed to be this long?" Edmund asked, indicating his shirt, which hung nearly to mid-thigh.

"It is indeed," Jyoti replied. "See the slits on the sides? You'll be able to move about just fine. Now, hold still." She slipped thin leather thongs through the grommets on either side of the seam at the front of the shirt, lacing each one up with expert fingers. "There's a tabard for each of you as well." Both were of rich red velvet, with the symbol of a rearing golden lion, but while Peter's was hemmed with a pattern of oak leaves, Edmund's was edged with thin gold vines.

"Now, you first, Edmund," Jyoti said, turning to his armor. Edmund stepped forward, holding his arms out. "First, your pauldrons, or shoulder pads. There are three lames that make them up, so that you can actually move your shoulders. Your mail sleeves cover the rest of your arms, so next are the greaves, to cover your shins, and sabatons, for your boots."

"What about my sword?" Edmund ask. "And will I need a shield?"

"This is for your sword," Jyoti replied, handing him a thin leather belt. "And I believe Oreius has your shield and helmet."

"Thank you, Jyo," Edmund replied, smiling, examining his armor. "Your turn, Peter."

Peter replaced his brother, holding out his arms as well.

"Your pauldrons have four lames instead of three, since your shoulders are broader than your brother's," Jyoti explained. "Next are leather gloves, very flexible, for your grip. Your shield arm's glove is not plated, but your sword arm is. There are also vambraces for your arms, full-circle to protect them from those who attack from below, as I believe you will be on horseback. You, too, have greaves and sabatons. And Oreius has your helmet, since Father Christmas already gave you a sword."

"What about your armor?" Peter asked.

"If you would like to see it, I can bring it over before we need to leave for the general's meeting," Jyoti offered. Peter nodded. "I won't be but a moment." She stepped back from them, making for her tent at a dead spring. Her armor was just outside her tent, laid out neatly next to her katanas. She slipped it on quickly, tying the laces tightly before strapping her katana sheaths into their proper places. She braided her hair as she flew back, tying the end off with a flourish before halting and bowing deeply before the Kings. Raising her arms, she turned slowly, proud of the armor Oreius himself had crafted for her. Peter grinned.

"Why is yours lighter than ours?" Edmund asked, curious.

"I may have trained to fight for years, but Oreius says I have not the strength to bear heavier armor," Jyoti explained. "My primary ally is speed, and heavier armor would weigh me down.

"That makes sense," Peter agreed, adding hastily, "Not that I'm saying you're weak. Because you're not. I mean, you seem like you're more than strong enough." Jyoti laughed.

"We should be at the meeting in any event. Shall we go?" she asked.

"By all means," Edmund replied, following his brother toward the center of the camp.

They were the last to arrive at the meeting, to a flurry of bows and nodded heads.

"Welcome, King Peter and King Edmund," Oreius said. "We are glad to have you among us." Peter and Edmund bowed in return. "Allow me to introduce your generals and lieutenants. I will ride with you at the center, King Peter, as your second-in-command. King Edmund, meet you my mate Kira, who will be your second-in-command as the head of the reserves."

"I'm to command them?" Edmund stammered. "I've never fought in a battle before!"

"Yes, but you know your brother better than any of us here," Oreius replied. "You will be able to respond to him in a way none of us could. He assures me that you are a master of strategy games as well."

"And so that you see Susan and Lu from the high ground," Peter added quietly. Edmund nodded and fell silent.

"I believe you have met Trin, commander of the dwarven forces on the left flank, and Enid, his chief lieutenant. Korlius and Inia will lead the fauns, and Malchus will command the gryphons, eagles, and Phoenix." Oreius finished. "Is this acceptable for you?"

"I am glad to fight alongside any warrior whose leadership abilities are as great as yours," Peter said, addressing the group.

"What is our battle plan?" Trin asked gruffly. "And where do the Talking Beasts fit in?"

"King Peter, would you care to share with us your battle strategy?" Oreius asked, turning. Peter started, then stepped forward to the map of the battlefield, indicating various positions there.

"The Talking Beasts will distribute themselves and take orders from the nearest general," Peter announced. "Now, as to our battle plan, Malchus will lead the charge of the gryphons and eagles with the Phoenix, for the aerial assault, on King Edmund's signal. Once their missiles have been released, Oreius and I will lead the ground charge. We attack in a diamond formation—flanks, angle off of our point. Kira, when Oreius or I signal you, sound the call for the retreat. Your archers will cover our retreat. When there is sufficient space between our army and the Witch's, Kira will light her arrow, and the Phoenix will provide his services. We will then hold our position at the rocks until the battle is finished."

Oreius raised his eyebrows, impressed.

"When did you come up with all that?" Edmund whispered.

"Aslan had discussed it with me a little bit, before he left, but the rest I've been working on since Oreius showed me the map of the battlefield," Peter replied, equally quiet. To the assembled generals, he added, " Are there any questions?" They shook their heads grimly. "Tell your warriors to arm up and break the camp down. We leave within the hour."

* * *

Author's Note: See? Because I love you all so much, I left you a nice long chapter. No, don't thank me. Just share the love. And one of the easiest ways to do that is to click that little "Review" button on your screen...please?


	7. The Breaking Storm

Aslan's army reached the northern end of the battlefield a full hour before noon, dispersing themselves according to Peter's orders. Edmund and Kira led the centaurs to the top of the cliffs, watching as the warriors calmly oiled their bowstrings.

"How can you be so calm?" Edmund asked softly. "How can you just sit there and fix up your weapons, knowing that you could die as soon as this starts?"

"One hundred years is a long time to wait for freedom, my King," Kira replied. "For those of us old enough to remember the time before the White Witch, it is especially painful."

"There are centaurs old enough to remember?" Edmund asked, astonished.

"Oreius and I have sixscore years each," Kira answered. "There are fauns and dwarves old enough to remember, too. We are gifted here with long lives."

"But a battle—" Edmund began.

"Yes, we may still die in battle," Kira replied calmly. "But we are glad to die for Aslan, because we know that he has lands Beyond the Sea prepared for us."

"Do you think we'll end up there, if we die here?" Edmund asked, his voice barely audible.

"My King, I do not believe that you will die," Kira said gently. "Nor your brother, nor your sisters. Aslan would not have come back if he did not believe that you were the ones to save us. And we have never been so united as we are under your leadership."

"But if we do die—"

"If by all the injustices in the world, you do not live, you will receive great honor in the kingdom of Aslan's father, the great Emperor Beyond-the-Sea," Kira said firmly. "Do not be afraid, my King."

"Kira, I'm not a king, I'm not a leader, I betrayed my own family!" Edward protested palely. "I don't want to fail Narnia, or fail them."

"Your mere presence is enough, my King," Kira replied. "And Aslan trusts you, as do I, to be more than good enough for Narnia." Edmund nodded slowly. He took a deep breath, calming himself, and settled himself into position.

"Thank you," he said softly. Kira bowed silently as Jyoti made her way down the cliffs to stand behind her father and Peter, whispering farewell to her mother.

"Keep you safe, daughter," Kira whispered, touching her shoulder.

"And you, mother," Jyoti replied, passing out of her sight.

* * *

Down below, Peter clutched his swordhilt tightly, nervously slipping his sword in and out of its sheath.

"Calm yourself, my King," Oreius said, deep voice rumbling. "The troops will gain courage from you."

"Everybody thinks we're some kind of heroes," Peter protested. "I'm not a hero. I'm not brave enough."

"A hero is no braver than an ordinary man, but he is braver five minutes longer," Jyoti said quietly, stepping up behind him. "I believe it was said by a Son of Adam called—"

"Ralph Waldo Emerson," Peter replied, a slight smile chasing across his face. "How do you know of him?"

"The first King of Narnia, King Frank, had a book of quotations by this Ralph Waldo Emerson in his pocket when he came to Narnia, and it passed to his son. It was lost, for a time, but I found it while I was in the Witch's dungeons ." Jyoti answered. "Oreius carries it with him."

"So you think I'm a hero?" Peter asked.

"I don't think so," Jyoti said, smiling. "I know so." Peter nodded slowly, his smile lingering, and signaled to Malchus.

Malchus took off from the clifftop, soaring the length of the battlefield in seconds. He circled back, spiraling to land next to Oreius and Peter.

"They come, your Highness, in numbers and weapons far greater than our own," he announced breathlessly.

"Numbers do not win a battle," Oreius lectured sternly.

"No, but I bet they help," Peter muttered under his breath. Malchus took flight to join the gryphons and eagles once more, waiting for Peter's signal to attack.

Jyoti's eyes widened at the size of the Witch's army as they approached over the horizon. She shook her head and checked to make sure that her katanas were firmly strapped in place. Straining, she could just make out the Witch's words.

"I have no need of prisoners," she said coldly. "Kill them all."

At Peter's signal, twoscore of gryphons and eagles took to the skies. Malchus screeched his war cry, releasing a boulder into the mass of the Witch's army. Jyoti vaguely heard a minotaur bellowing for the archers to look to the skies, and watched with fear as several gryphons fell, pierced by Black Dwarven arrows.

Beside the Witch, five Furies assembled, taking off at her nod of command. They rose awkwardly, clashing with the forerunners. One gryphon fell, his wings pinned in a Fury's claws. Still more fell to arrows, until Malchus released a second boulder, sending it careening through the air to crush a Fury and bowl over several archers and a Minotaur.

Behind him, the army cheered. Malchus screeched a second time, and the aerial warriors peeled off, returning to circle over the bulk of their own army.

"Are you with me?" Peter asked quietly. Oreius looked him in the eyes.

"To the death," he replied simply.

"For Narnia, and for Aslan!" Peter cried, and led the charge out. Oreius was right next to him, both swords drawn. Jyoti went with them, scarcely feeling the ground beneath her feet as they drew closer and closer, and drew her katanas as she kept pace next to her father.

The world seemed to grow silent as they neared the front line of Jadis' army, and the cheetahs sprang ahead of them.

And then the battle was joined.

Peter bulled straight through their ranks, running over as many as possible with sheer force and using his sword to dispatch the rest. Oreius moved with surprising grace for one so large, using his massive bulk to trample anyone in his path. Jyoti was a blur of motion, making up for her size with blinding speed. She dimly heard the battle all around her, but focused only on protecting Peter's flank.

The arrow exploded overhead as the Phoenix burst from its tip. One final Fury rose, spiraling upward, aiming to intersect the Phoenix before he could do any damage. Peter squinted through the slits of his helmet, snatching a spear from a fallen Narnian. Still galloping at full speed, outracing his flank guards, he sighted and loosed the spear. Edmund watched as it rose, arcing higher and higher to drive straight through the Fury's heart.

Slowly, starting with his wingtips, the Phoenix began to burn, until his whole body was engulfed in flames that trailed behind him. He dipped low, just touching the grass with his wingtip, and the ground burst into flames. As he soared across the ground, a wall of flame erupted in his path, blocking the progress of the Witch's army. He arced upward, shrieking triumphantly, and vanished into the flames.

"Fall back! Draw them to the rocks!" Peter called, his voice echoing over the pitched battle. Jyoti sheathed her swords immediately, tucking them in place as she ran. She vaulted over Oreius' back, taking up a position atop a jutting rock peak, watching as Kira and the archers fired volley after volley.

From her vantage point, just beyond the approaching Narnians, she saw several of the Witch's army almost on the heels of Narnian stragglers. She yanked her boot-knives free, tossing them carefully in her hand to get a sense of their weight.

"My apologies, Queen Lucy," she whispered, glancing up to the skies. "Do as I say, not as I do." She drew her arm back and fired them off, one after another, dropping two Cruels in their tracks. She tucked the sheaths away, glancing up just in time to see Peter fall from his horse, only yards ahead of the frontrunners of the Witch's main force. Her eyes widened, and Oreius turned to see what she stared at.

"Stop!" Peter ordered hoarsely as they charged.

Jyoti could only stand and watch as her father followed in the path of the rhinoceros, killing the Witch's minotaur General with two perfectly placed swords. He drew his huge, double-handed blade, swinging it experimentally, and attacked the Witch full-force, soaring over her as he drove his sword toward her heart. She ducked, bending acrobatically beneath the swing, and drove her wand into his abdomen.

"Father!" Jyoti screamed, shaking, fumbling to draw her katanas. "Peter, get up, get up now!" Peter scrambled to his feet, sword drawn, and shook his helmetless head, watching in horror as the Witch methodically decimated his forces with her wand. Jyoti's eyes began to glow silver as she stepped down from the rock, drawing her katanas in the same motion. Light flashed down her blades as tears of pure anger fell on them, glowing until they verily radiated light. She dispatched soldier after soldier of Jadis' army as she began to run faster and faster, becoming only a blur of silver and black, doing to Jadis' forces what the Witch herself did to Aslan's.

"Ed!" Peter yelled, glancing back at his brother. "There are too many of them! Get the girls, and get home!"

"Come on, you heard 'im!" Beaver added, tugging at Edmund's mail. "Peter said get out of here!" Edmund started to follow him, then paused, seeing yet another gryphon dashed to pieces on the rocks after being struck by the Witch's wand.

"Peter's not king yet," he muttered, sprinting across the rocks. He paused behind the Witch, just out of her sight, and yelled as he swung at her wand. She reacted quickly, drawing it back, but lunged out with it again. He brought his sword down, hard, and shattered it. The Witch's eyes widened furiously, and she disarmed him quickly. Taking the broken wand, she drove it into his stomach, and turned away dispassionately to arm herself with a dead soldier's sword.

Jyoti turned as an icy shock wave blasted through her, seeing Peter's horror-stricken face as Edmund fell. Forgetting her surroundings for a moment, she watched with awe as Peter strode forward to engage her, moving quickly. His sword was a blur as he parried and thrust, holding his own against the Witch.

A roar behind her caused her to turn once more, and she got her katanas up only just in time to block an axe-blow from another minotaur. She danced around him, katanas flick-flicking in and out, just out of his reach, cutting him again and again. He feinted left and cut up, slicing a shallow cut down her arm. She lunged forward, wincing at the pull in her muscle, nicking his abdomen, and pulled back quickly as he lunged at her, blocking his axe blade behind her head. She twisted her swords around the shaft and disarmed him, neatly decapitating him as she swung her blades around to the front once more. She wiped her blades quickly on his pelt, and stumbled forward suddenly. She staggered, leaning on her swordblades, and slowly reached a hand around to her back. Even armored, it had been sliced to the bone. Jyoti turned carefully as the world dimmed around her, glancing confusedly at the one last minotaur wielding a double-headed axe. He bellowed his triumph as she fell, staring up at the sky.

_I'm coming home, Aslan,_ she thought softly, eyes closing as the world fell into darkness.


	8. Rainbows and Sunshine

Jyoti's return to consciousness was heralded by a line of fire burning down her back and arm. Her neck snapped back as her body arched in a bow until only her feet and crown touched the crushed grass beneath her. The world slowly shimmered into view, and she blinked rapidly. The blurs above her slowly resolved themselves into the faces of Oreius, Kira, and Lucy.

"You're supposed to be dead," she mumbled, confused. Oreius chuckled.

"So are you," he replied.

"Lucy saved your life," Kira said quietly. "She healed you with the juice of the fireflower."

"The juice of the fireflower?" Jyoti asked, struggling to sit up. "That is a rare possession indeed, Queen Lucy." Lucy offered her a hand, and she rose to her feet, feeling for a scar on her back.

"You shouldn't have a scar," Lucy told her, smiling. "And you shouldn't have any pain from it, either."

"You have saved my life, my Queen," Jyoti said, bowing deeply. "It is yours, for as long as you should need it."

"You really don't have to do that," Lucy protested. Jyoti shook her head.

"I owe you my life, Queen Lucy," she replied. "It is a life debt. And there is no one I would rather owe it to."

"Then I accept, on one condition," Lucy replied.

"What is it?" Jyoti asked. "Anything you wish."

"That you stop calling me your queen and just call me Lucy," she answered.

"It would be an honor, Lucy," Jyoti replied, smiling. "I am glad to serve you."

"Lu!" Peter called. "There are more who need healing." Lucy curtsied to the three of them and hiked up her skirt, running toward the next soldier.

"How are you alive?" Jyoti asked, turning to her father. "I'm certainly not complaining, not at all, but how?"

"I'm sorry that I was turned to stone before I could guard your back," Oreius said, eyes reflecting the terror he had felt upon seeing her still, near-lifeless body. "You would never have been injured if I had been smarter, or wiser, or had thought for just a moment."

"You did the right thing, father," Jyoti said softly. "I would have done the same, were I a few steps closer to you. But how are you still here?"

"I believe there's someone slightly better qualified than I to answer your question," Oreius replied, smiling slowly. He stepped sideways, moving closer to Kira, and Jyoti gasped.

"Hello, Fallen Star," Aslan rumbled. Jyoti stood stock-still, eyes wide, unable to move. She knelt slowly, still stunned, and bowed her head to him. "I am glad to see you are well."

Jyoti leapt to her feet, too awed and overwhelmed for words, and ran to him, torn between a desire to feel that he was real—that he was not a ghost—and a fear of impropriety. She settled for kneeling before him and bowing so deeply that her forehead touched the ground, until a velvet-soft paw slipped under her shoulders and brought her upright.

"I am real, daughter," he promised, resting his paw on her shoulder. "Touch me, and doubt no more." Jyoti looked at him hesitantly, not daring to believe, and flung her arms around his neck, burying her face in his mane.

"I'm sorry for ever doubting that you'd be back with us," she whispered, tears sliding down her cheeks and onto his fur. She straightened slowly, wiping her eyes, and turned to Oreius. "And I'm sorry for letting my guard down, and I'm sorry for letting you down too."

"You have never let me down, daughter," Oreius replied gently. "And as long as you learn from the past, you will never do so in the future." Jyoti nodded as Kira brushed her hair off her face.

"I have just one last question," Jyoti said hesitantly. "Why am I not dead? I understand how Lucy healed me, but why didn't the Minotaur finish me off?"

"For that, I believe you should speak with someone whose aim you greatly improved," Kira smiled. Jyoti's eyes widened, and she turned around, walking toward the body of the dead beast behind her.

A single red-fletched arrow was buried in the Minotaur's body, the tip resting in the ground, straight through his heart. Jyoti smiled, and quietly excused herself. Kira and Oreius watched her go, smiling as well.

"Pardon me," Jyoti said quietly, coming up behind the Pevensies. "I do not mean to interrupt, but I wanted to thank you, Queen Susan."

"Thank me?" Susan asked, puzzled.

"Your sister healed me, and for that I owe her my life, but I would have had no life to save if not for you. I owe you a life debt as well," Jyoti replied. "And from what I could see, your aim was absolutely perfect." Susan blushed, smiling.

"I'm glad I was able to help," she replied. "Though I certainly wouldn't have been able to do it without your help in the first place." Jyoti bowed deeply, and turned to King Edmund.

"That was an incredibly brave thing to do, King Edmund," she said, smiling. He blushed and scuffed at the ground.

"She wouldn't have noticed me if I hadn't yelled while I was jumping," Edmund replied, grinning wryly. "I'll have to work on that next time." His siblings laughed.

"Yes, Ed, the next time you have to attack a Witch with the magical power to turn you into a statue and attempt destroying her wand, please, do remember not to yell while doing so," Peter instructed him. The field echoed with their laughter once more. "My problem is simpler. Oreius and the rhinoceros would never have had to charge if I'd been wiser, or at least braver. If I was braver, I would have charged myself. I can be braver."

"You were more than brave enough," Jyoti retorted. "And besides the amount of your courage, you were brave five minutes longer." Peter laughed outright, and his siblings looked at him, confused.

"I take it you were successful in your battle with the Witch, King Peter?" Jyoti asked. "Seeing as she is dead, and you live?"

"Actually, she almost killed me," Peter replied, shaking his head. "Aslan was the one to kill her. I'm not nearly as strong a warrior as most of the soldiers here."

"I may be the weakest of the warrior of my tribe, and I still have about eight years of experience on you, King Peter," Jyoti said dryly. "Fighting and learning to fight has been my life since I escaped the Witch's palace. You're quite the natural swordsman, in all honesty."

"Just how old are you?" Peter asked curiously.

"I have seventeen years to my name: five as a star in the skies, five as a prisoner in the Witch Jadis' palace, and seven with the centaurs," Jyoti answered. "What of you and your siblings?"

"Peter's seventeen as well," Susan replied. "I'm fifteen, Edmund is thirteen, and Lucy is ten."

"Where is Lu, anyway?" Edmund asked.

"She's off healing the wounded," Peter said, and winced, holding his arm.

"From the looks of things, 'the wounded' appears to include you," Jyoti said quietly. "What happened?"

"The Witch stuck a sword through my arm to keep me pinned to the ground," Peter replied, face taut with pain. "I don't want Lucy to use her vial for me; there are others who need it more."

"Let me have a look at it," Jyoti offered. "I might be able to help."

Edmund carefully helped his brother out of his vambraces and pauldrons as Susan undid the lacings on his mail shirt. Peter hissed as the armor slid over his upper arm, revealing a deep red stain on his sleeve.

"I can't see the wound with your sleeve covering it," Jyoti admitted. "Might I ask you to cut off the sleeve?" Peter shook his head and removed his shirt entirely.

"It's ruined anyway," he shrugged. Jyoti bowed her head over the wound, seeing that the sword had gone cleanly through his arm, piercing the edges of his muscles. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply before looking up at Peter. He started slightly, seeing opaquely silver eyes rather than chocolate brown ones.

"Do I have your permission to heal it, King Peter?" she asked, voice distant and faint. Peter nodded wordlessly. She bent her head over the wound once more, keeping her eyes open this time, and opened her mouth. Soft notes poured forth, almost tangible in their beauty, filling the air with warmth and light. Droplets of light sank into the wound, sinking into skin and muscle. She sat back, eyes fading back to brown, as the muscles knitted back together and the skin sealed over the wound. By the time it was done, only a thin white scar remained, wrapping around his upper arm. Jyoti leaned back into the grass, breathing heavily.

"How did you do that?" Peter asked, amazement evident in his voice.

"The stars are given songs of power," Jyoti replied, trying to catch her breath. "There is a Fallen Star named Ramandu, who, with his daughter, sings to cause the sun to rise. My mother sings to draw stars together in constellations, and my father sings for the moonrise. I was blessed with a song of healing."

"Why couldn't you heal yourself?" Susan asked, puzzled.

"I have meant to ask Aslan the same question," Jyoti answered. "But for each star, the song of power takes great effort. It is part of the reason why stars age differently, because the power comes from the soul of the person. I can't self-heal, and I can't even heal others all the time."

"So how could you heal me?" Peter asked. Jyoti blushed slightly.

"The power to heal comes from love, honor, and loyalty," she replied, ducking her head. Susan hid a smile at her embarrassment. Peter looked away awkwardly, and Jyoti rose. "I should see if Aslan has any tasks for me, before we leave for Cair Paravel."

"Cair Paravel?" Edmund asked.

"It is to be your palace," Jyoti replied, smiling. "It's right on the sea, and absolutely breathtaking. Oreius and Kira took me there once, to show me the thrones that would someday be occupied by Kings and Queens of Narnia. And there are gardens, beautiful, spacious ones, and an enormous kitchen area, and a dining hall, and a ballroom, and practice courts for learning to fight in, chambers for each of you, and, of course, the throne room."

"It sounds amazing," Susan smiled.

"It will be far more amazing when you and your sister and brothers reign from it," Jyoti said quietly. She bowed deeply, and excused herself.

_Jyoti, I have a task for you, if you are willing_. That was Aslan, his distinctly rich voice echoing in her mind.

"Anything for you, Aslan," she answered, beaming. "What is it?"

"The fauns are building a funeral pyre for the dead," he said quietly, stepping up behind her. "Would you be willing to light it, and send them to the Kingdom Beyond the Sea? "

"Why me, Aslan?" she asked, puzzled. "I know not who lives and who has died, or if I know any of the dead personally."

"Because it does not matter whether you know them or not, Jyoti," Aslan said sternly. "If you wish to return to the night skies, you must gain compassion." Jyoti nodded her acquiescence quietly, ducking her head.

"I will bring everyone to it shortly," Aslan told her. "We will meet you at the top of the cliffs." Jyoti nodded once more, and stepped back toward the cliff-edges. She leapt lightly, making her way from ledge to ledge until she reached the top.

"Are you the Fallen Star?" one asked, stepping away from the pyre. Jyoti tried to keep her eyes off of the far too many bodies laid out on it.

"Jyoti Fallen, at your service," she answered, bowing.

"Faun Tumnus, at yours," he replied, holding out his hand. She looked at it curiously.

"It is a custom of the Children of Adam and Eve," he explained. "Queen Lucy showed me it, when we first met. You shake it. Or at least, that's what she did, when she first came to Narnia."

"You were the first to meet them?" Jyoti asked, awed. She accepted his hand and shook it awkwardly. Tumnus smiled crookedly.

"Will Aslan be joining us, then?" Tumnus asked.

"He said he was gathering the others, and that then he would be here," Jyoti replied. "He would like me to light the pyre when the time comes."

"Would you be willing to sing, first?" Tumnus asked. Jyoti cocked her head, confused. "It is a custom of the fauns to sing a lullaby to the dead before they are sent to the Kingdom Beyond the Sea, and I would be glad to accompany you on the panflute."

"It would be an honor, Faun Tumnus," Jyoti replied gravely. "What would you have me sing?" Tumnus smiled and whispered a quiet word in her ear, and she nodded slowly.

Jyoti laid down her armor and swords as Aslan led the remnants of his army up to the pyre. She stood at the Northern corner of the pyre, watching as first Aslan, then King Peter, stepped forward.

"These warriors have given their lives for lasting peace in Narnia," Aslan pronounced solemnly. "We will see them again with great joy at the end of all things, in the Kingdom Beyond the Sea, where there will be no more death."

"I am honored to have fought with such heroes," Peter said simply, drawing his sword in a silent salute to the dead. Tumnus began to play a soft, dreamy melody, and Lucy half-smiled at her memory of it as Jyoti began to sing.

The Narnian lullaby had no lyrics, only an achingly beautiful wordless melody. Jyoti's voice echoed off the rocks, clear and soft and haunting, twining around the deep, rich harmonies of Tumnus' panflute. The notes soared above the battlefield and the pyre, almost tangible, as Jyoti slowly lowered her torch to the pyre. As it touched down, the flames dipped low, lighting the oil-soaked wood. The funeral pyre burst into flame before her, and the song rang out, piercingly sweet, punctuated by the rush of the fire.

The pyre burned to ash within minutes, and Jyoti stepped out from behind the fire.

"Well done, Fallen Star," Aslan said solemnly. "Walk with me for a while." Jyoti scooped up her armor and followed him, meandering aimlessly along the ledges.

"I'm glad you're back," she said finally, smiling. Aslan chuckled.

"I, too, am glad to be back," he replied.

"How did it happen?" Jyoti asked curiously.

"The Old Magic of the Stone Table is such that if a willing sacrifice who had committed no treachery ever took the place of another victim, the Table would crack and even Death itself would work backward," Aslan informed her. "But I am not here to speak of me." Jyoti looked at him curiously. "I came to speak about you, dear one."

"I should have fought better," she said hurriedly. "I promise I'll do better, I won't let down my guard—"

"Peace, child," Aslan said calmly. "You fought well. You will fight better, I have no doubt, which is why I am asking you to become Queen Lucy's bodyguard." Jyoti stood stock-still and stared at him, mouth agape.

"It would be the greatest honor of my life," she said finally, breathless. Aslan rumbled contentedly.

"You will have a room in Cair Paravel, next to that of Queen Lucy," he told her. "It will be fully prepared upon your arrival there on the morrow, the morning of the coronation ceremony." Jyoti's eyes widened with delight and she smiled broadly. Aslan chuckled fondly in response. "Go and tell your family. Oreius and Kira will be glad for you."

"Will I have to leave them?" Jyoti asked worriedly, her delight fading slightly at the thought.

"No, dear one, Oreius will remain as King Peter's guard, and I believe the Eryn-Gwae plan to live in the hills just south of Cair Paravel," Aslan assured her. "Now, go."

Jyoti bowed hastily and darted off, eyes alight, bounding over the rocks. Aslan smiled as she went, laughing slightly as she tripped, rolling quickly to her feet and glancing over her shoulder to see if he had seen her clumsiness, blushing as she did so. He shook his great mane, clearing his mind, and padded silently back to the victorious Narnians.

* * *

Author's Note: As usual, no infringement intended and all that. I am currently rather review-starved, and would love some more, though...so as an incentive, to anyone who reviews this chapter and gives me three words to describe them, I will create a character who will appear within the next five chapters or so :D


	9. Ivory and Gold

Cair Paravel had stood as a hope-filled promise for one hundred years. Thanks to the faithful—though secret—care of the Dryads and Naiads from the surrounding woods and waters, not a single speck of crumbled rock had fallen from its towering walls. Ivy vines flourished only along arched trellises in ancient gardens, tended by bees, hummingbirds and butterflies under the guidance of the moles. The castle itself contained a score of chambers for the Kings and Queens alone, surrounded by rooms for servants, barracks for the guards, spacious kitchens, a ballroom, a dining hall, and the throne room. The castle grounds were filled with practice courts, gardens, and scattered groves of oaks and maples, both ancient and sapling. Arched windows looked out to the sea, while white cliffs hid gently sloping paths down to the shore. Everything was perfectly maintained, if slightly dimmed by the passage of time.

Now, a veritable army of Talking Beasts, dwarves, and fauns swarmed over every inch of Cair Paravel's marble surfaces, polishing white marble and gold crowning to a pearly shimmer. Centaurs bore tables and chairs as Dryads hung flowered garlands. The kitchens bustled with noise and heat as Hamadryads and Silvans bore platters filled with food to the dining hall and throne room, echoing over their whisper-soft footsteps.

One wing over, Lucy and Susan stared wide-eyed at their rooms, furnished in shades of lavender and light green. Tapestries depicting various regions of Narnia hung from every wall, their fringes brushing pale elm floors. The beds were surrounded by translucent curtains of the same hues, embroidered with doves for Susan and elk for Lucy.

"I take it your chambers are satisfactory, my Queens?" Jyoti asked, stepping into the room.

"They're beautiful," Lucy exclaimed. "Do you live here too?" Jyoti smiled and indicated a door connected to the Queens' bedchamber.

"I will live nearby, Queen Lucy, as long as you permit," she replied. "Aslan has asked me to serve as your bodyguard." Lucy grinned.

"I think I'd like that," Lucy answered her. "I think I'd like that very much." Jyoti bowed wordlessly. "But I won't like very much if I have to remind you again to just call me Lucy!" She giggled, and Jyoti smiled back, nodding in agreement.

"Queen Susan, I believe Aslan plans to provide a bodyguard for you as well," she said, turning to the elder sister.

"And my brothers?" Susan asked.

"Oreius has been asked to serve as King Peter's bodyguard, and King Edmund will be given a protector as well," Jyoti told her. "I believe they will be present at the coronation ceremony, at noon."

"Aslan told us what happens at the ceremony," Lucy said. "Is what we're wearing okay?"

"Aslan has provided gowns for you, my Queens," Jyoti assured her. "I believe the Dryads will be bringing them shortly. They've taken a liking to you especially, Lucy." Lucy blushed. "May I tell Aslan that you are pleased with your rooms? He expects me in the throne room, ready for the ceremony, as soon as I have ensured your comfort here."

"Everything is wonderful," Lucy replied giddily. "Are Peter's and Edmund's rooms as beautiful as ours?"

"I believe theirs are decorated in red and gold, but yes. You are Kings and Queens, after all. Your rooms are fit for royalty now," Jyoti laughed. The doors behind her opened as two female fauns entered, bearing brushes and combs.

"Aslan sent us, my Queens," the elder explained. "I am Lila, and my daughter is Inan."

"Can you make my hair curly?" Lucy asked, excited.

"Yes, my Queen," the younger faun replied. "If you would seat yourself at your boudoir, I believe I may." Lucy did so eagerly, and Susan laughed.

"Have you any preference, Elder Queen?" the other asked, turning to Susan. Susan shook her head, bemused, seating herself at the boudoir.

Inan took out her brushes, beginning to twine Lucy's hair around a slender round brush as Lila smoothed a comb through Susan's hair.

"Will they do your hair, too?" Lucy asked, trying to be polite.

"My mother will do my hair," Jyoti explained.

"Peter said you were adopted?" Susan prompted, as Lila separated her hair into two parts and began to tight-braid it. Finishing one braid, she twisted and tucked the ends underneath, pinning the braid in place.

"Oreius and Kira took me in, yes," Jyoti replied. "My real parents are stars, in the constellation called the Waterfall."

"And you—you fell?" Susan asked, still confused.

"I broke Aslan's decrees too many times," Jyoti said evasively. "But I am redeeming myself." Susan looked at her strangely.

"Might I have a moment with my sister, while we prepare?" she asked politely. "I don't mean to throw you out, or any such thing, but I need to speak with her.

"Absolutely, my Queen," she replied. "I will see you at the ceremony." She stepped out of the room, hearing Lucy whisper hotly behind her,

"That was rude, Susan! Why did you kick her out?"

She reached for the door to slam it shut, stopping short only as two Dryads entered, bearing gowns and cloaks, passing Jyoti on their way in.

Jyoti really couldn't say she was all that surprised at Susan's reaction. With Aslan's blessing, she doubted that she would be removed from her duties, but expected to be watched closely by the Elder siblings.

She half-smiled and entered her own bedchamber, slipping into the gown that had been laid out on her bed. When she'd asked Aslan about it, he had informed her that her current attire was by no means suitable for any occasion as formal as a coronation, and she had readily agreed. Much though she hated to wear dresses, this one, at least, was in a pale shade of gold that fairly glowed against her complexion, wrapping her slender torso with silk before slipping into delicate, flouncing layers of tulle. In a slight spirit of rebelliousness, Jyoti forwent shoes and made her way down to the throne room barefoot, tucking her unshod feet beneath her skirts.

"What can I do to help?" she asked, coming up beside Aslan. He turned, surveying her gown, and nodded approvingly.

"I believe we are more than prepared, dear one, but thank you for the offer," he replied. "The gown suits you well." Jyoti bobbed an awkward curtsy, nearly falling over, and caught herself quickly.

"Where should I stand?" she asked. "I wouldn't want to be in the way at all."

"You may stand behind your father, at the base of the dais," Aslan informed her. "Do not forget be prepared to join Queen Lucy afterward, though." Jyoti shuffled her feet awkwardly and nodded, stepping sideways to avoid a faun bearing a flower garland.

"Who will serve as bodyguards to the other Kings and Queen?" she asked curiously.

"I believe Oreius mentioned to you that he will protect High King Peter," Aslan replied. "There is also a lion, called Riel, on whom King Edmund drew while at the Witch's castle. He will be Edmund's bodyguard, and Malchus will be Queen Susan's."

Jyoti continued to walk with him in companionable silence, perfectly content to twine her fingers in his mane and simply meander through the hall, carefully navigating between busy Narnians. The hall itself was made of white marble with gold trimmings, as were the four thrones above the three steps leading up to the dais. The walls, however, were softened by massive tapestries and hanging flower garlands.

Jyoti smiled as Kira turned away from the garland she was hanging and inclined her head gravely to Aslan, who returned the gesture.

"Who is this, and what have you done with my daughter?" Kira asked, teasing. "Because the Jyoti I know would never wear a dress, let alone a gown." Jyoti giggled. "You look beautiful, daughter."

"It must be the gown," Jyoti replied, blushing.

"No, daughter, I believe it is you," Kira insisted. "You are growing into quite the young woman." Jyoti smiled at her mother's misty-eyed expression. "I have some flowers left over from the garlands. Might I braid them into your hair?" Jyoti nodded, and closed her eyes, relaxing as Kira wove several strands of hair with a gold ribbon and buttercup blossoms, leaving most of her chestnut curls to cascade over her shoulders.

Aslan watched the exchange between mother and daughter with a quiet smile. It was he who had sent Oreius and Kira to the Lantern Waste to find Jyoti. He had debated between choosing the centaurs—known for close-knit family groups, strong fighting skills, and fierce loyalty—and the fauns, who were known for their merriment and joyful natures. In the end, though, Oreius, Kira, the Eryn-Gwae, and Jyoti had all needed hope. Jyoti's presence had brought new life to the Eryn-Gwae, who had lost almost all their foals to the Witch, as they raised her as their own. And Jyoti, in turn, had found a family once more.

Jyoti turned to hug her mother as Kira tucked the last buttercup into her braid.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"If you are done, Jyoti, I believe we are almost ready for the coronation," Aslan informed her. "Would you bring the Kings and Queens to me? I will await them Throne Room's entrance." Jyoti curtsied once more, managing only a small wobble this time, hiking up her skirt as she dashed for the stair.

"She's not wearing any shoes," Kira sighed, resigned. Aslan chuckled softly.

Jyoti ran down the stairs, skirt trailing behind her, skidding to a halt before the door to Susan's and Lucy's bedchamber. She knocked cautiously.

"Come in!" someone shouted, and Jyoti poked her head inside. Susan was fully dressed, her silver-blue dress of panné velvet water-light against a dark blue cape. Lucy stood before her, fidgeting, as Susan tried to button the myriad of pearl buttons that ran the length of Lucy's dress from the base of her spine to her neck.

"If you would care to give your fingers a rest, Queen Susan, perhaps I might try? And you could put your slippers on," Jyoti offered. Susan stepped back with a sigh of relief, massaging cramped fingers.

"You came just in time," she said, tugging on first one silver slipper, then the other. Jyoti's past seemed to be at least temporarily forgotten, and Jyoti smiled slightly.

"Aslan sent me to bring you, since the ceremony cannot start until you are there," Jyoti laughed, slowly working button after button through the tiny holes. "There you go, Queen Lucy. Have you your cloak?" Lucy nodded, sending a shimmer of light down her pale blue dress. She took the russet red cloak up from her bed, clasping it at her neck with a small lion-shaped broach. Jyoti smiled at the design.

"Where are we to meet him?" Lucy asked, fussing at her dress.

"If you don't mind coming with me while I fetch your brothers, I can take you to him," Jyoti proposed. Lucy shrugged and looked to her elder sister.

"Thank you," Susan replied, smiling. "We went to see them while you were gone. Their chambers are just down the hall." Lucy and Jyoti followed her out, passing doors to several more of the Queens' chambers before pausing in front of double wooden doors carved with scenes of Narnian history.

"Peter? Ed? Are you decent?" Susan asked, knocking at one of the doors.

"Just a moment," came the muffled reply. The door opened, and Peter peered out. "What is it?"

"Jyo came to take us to Aslan, so the coronation can start," Lucy explained. "Are you and Ed dressed?" Peter stepped outside, holding his golden cloak over one arm, followed closely by Edmund.

"I'm having some problems getting this to clasp," he explained, holding up the offending garment. Jyoti took it, tossing it over his shoulders, and bringing the edges together just above the front of his collar.

"I believe the lack of a clasp is the primary problem," she said, laughing. Peter looked down, raising his eyebrows, and she smiled up at him. His eyes were a clear shade of blue, staring straight into her own brown ones, and she blushed slightly. She looked down, fumbling for the pin clipped to her bodice, and used it to fasten his cloak, glowing golden against midnight blue velvet. "You look very handsome, my King."

"It's Peter," he insisted. "Thank you. For the pin, I mean. It's very nice." Edmund smirked slightly, smoothing his silver tunic. "And you—you look very pretty," he added, stammering slightly. Jyoti blushed a deeper shade of pink, ducking her head to hide it as best she could.

"Are you ready, then?" she asked, changing the subject quickly.

"You still never said where we're going," Lucy said. Jyoti smiled, leading them up the winding staircase.

"Aslan awaits you just outside of the Throne Room," she explained finally, using side corridors to reach their destination. She paused as they reached the fountain outside the Throne Room, and the four Children turned as one to face her. "It is an honor to be of service," she added, curtseying deeply, proud of her effort until her knee gave and she tumbled forward.

A hand caught her upper arm and pulled her upright as she fell against a familiar tunic. Peter held her by the hand and the arm, holding her erect.

"I'm so sorry, m—Peter," she apologized, embarrassed, tucking her feet beneath her skirt once more.

"It's alright," he replied, smiling, as he made sure she could stand. "You helped me up once; I helped you up, so I suppose we're even now." Jyoti looked puzzled, trying to understand what he was talking about.

"When Oreius and the rhinoceros charged, and you insisted that I get up," Peter reminded her. Jyoti smiled at that, and bowed instead of curtseying as she left, though the movement looked a bit strange in a dress.

She made her way through the throngs of Narnians anxious to see their Kings and Queens—all a manner of Talking Beasts nearest the walls, with the fauns and dwarves just in front of them. The centaurs lined the center aisle of the hall, armored and with their swords drawn and angled to form an web of steel over the aisle. Oreius stood at the base of the dais, holding his double-handed sword aloft in a warrior's salute. Jyoti stood just behind him, fidgeting slightly at the bodice of her dress.

The heralds at the entrance to the hall sounded their horns, echoing with brassy pride. Aslan padded down the center of the aisle, with the Queens on his right and the Kings on his left. As they passed, the centaurs raised their blades, forming a perfect arch overhead. Jyoti winked at Lucy as she passed by, eliciting a small grin. The four Children stood before their thrones, facing the crowd, awe and delight openly written on their faces.

"Daughter, why does the Elder King wear your pin?" Oreius asked sternly, his voice only just loud enough for Jyoti to hear. Jyoti blushed.

"His clasp broke," she explained. Oreius nodded and turned his attention back to the dais.

"To the glistening Eastern Sea," Aslan announced, "I give you Queen Lucy, the Valiant." Tumnus stepped forward, bearing a band of thin silver laurel leaves, accented by yarrow and laurel flowers, and placed it gently over Lucy's dark curls.

"To the great Western Woods," Aslan continued, "I give you King Edmund, the Just." Edmund's crown was thicker, with a wide base and four silver leaf-encrusted peaks. He raised one hand to it, amazed, as Aslan went on,

"To the radiant Southern Sun, Queen Susan, the Gentle." Susan smiled as a band of woven gold mountain ash leaves and daisies was placed on the crown of her head, looking at Aslan in time to see him conclude,

"And to the clear Northern Skies, King Peter, the Magnificent." Peter's crown had the thickest base, set with diamonds and rubies beneath alternating great and small peaks of three gold feathers.

"Once a King or Queen of Narnia, always a King or Queen," Aslan finished quietly. He turned to face the masses, and Jyoti joined in as they proclaimed,

"Long live King Peter! Long live Queen Susan! Long live King Edmund! Long live Queen Lucy!"

* * *

Author's Note: Yes, this was a short chapter...but on the bright side, it's the last of the non-original circumstances! That is, from now on, I go wherever my imagination takes me, without being bounded by what happened in the book (mainly because there aren't many descriptions of the Golden Age of Narnia). So far, I have one cameo character to add--they'll appear in the next chapter--but would be glad to give more, so long as I get reviews...


	10. Music and Dancing

Cair Paravel's most ornate outdoor pavilion was flanked by marble-and-gold arches, towering over the Narnians meandering in and out of them. Inside, marzipan and spun-sugar statues of the Kings and Queens, Aslan, and Cair Paravel stood amidst the mingling revelers, between tables piled high with more food than any Narnian had seen in a century. Outside, flutes and drums echoed over the stones, providing a rich counterpoint to the merriment. The fauns led the dancing, weaving in and out of each other in intricate patterns.

"Jyoti, would you come here, please?" Jyoti looked around, puzzled, hearing Aslan's voice but not seeing him. She spied him at the eastern edge of the pavilion, standing between the Children.

"King Peter says that you healed him yesterday?" Aslan asked. Jyoti nodded. "The Healing Song does not tired you overmuch, does it?"

"No, Aslan," she assured him. "I just have to make sure that I eat plenty, and drink more, and sleep well."

"And when was the last time you ate?" Aslan asked pointedly. Jyoti had to think hard to remember, and wobbled slightly.

"Are you okay?" Edmund asked, worried.

"I did sleep well enough, Aslan," Jyoti promised. "I've just been so busy, I don't remember eating." She wobbled again, more noticeably.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Peter repeated, more worried this time. Jyoti nodded wordlessly and rose unsteadily.

"You said you need to eat something, right?" Lucy prompted. Peter hastily offered Jyoti his arm. She shook her head, taking a slow step forward, but her knees buckled, and she collapsed. Strong hands caught her as she fell, and placed her gently on her feet.

"I think you might need this," Peter said dryly, offering his arm once more. Jyoti smiled palely, accepting it this time, and followed him to one of the pavilion's many alcoves. Even here, in the tucked-away corners of the celebration, there was a table laden with platters of fruit and rolls and pitchers of cold tea. Jyoti ate, feeling her strength return with every bit and sip.

"Thank you," she said hoarsely. "That took a good deal more out of me than I expected."

"I'm glad I could help," Peter said, smiling. "It's nice, being useful." Jyoti nodded, agreeing.

"I take it you're the protective, always-ready-to-do-something one of the family?" she asked.

"I suppose so," he admitted. "Susan's always been the logical one in our family. She's a lot like our Mum that way, really. And Edmund always wants to prove himself, and he doesn't even realize that he doesn't really need to. And Lu—Lu always makes things better, no matter how bad they seem."

"What's it like, having brothers and sisters?" Jyoti asked longingly. Peter looked at her, surprised.

"Didn't you say there were foals?" he asked, confused.

"They were always too young, and they weren't really my brothers or sisters," Jyoti said. Peter nodded, understanding.

"We argue sometimes," Peter confessed. "We didn't before my father left for the war, not really, but it was hard without him. We don't always get along, and it's not always fun to take care of each other. But there's always someone to talk to, and someone to study with, and someone to play with. You might never be alone, but you're never lonely, either. I'd do anything to make sure they stayed safe, and I'd never trade them, not for anything." Jyoti smiled wistfully, nodding. "What was it like growing up in Narnia?"

"I didn't really grow up here," Jyoti explained. "It's hard to explain, but I lived in the night skies for five years, but not five years as you would measure it. I told you how my parents were stars, yes?" Peter nodded.

"Then you fell, to end up in Narnia?" he prompted.

"I fell, when I was five," she admitted. "And then spent five years in the Witch's castle. I didn't speak for those entire five years, and that's the only reason she didn't kill me—she didn't know if I was human or not. So I spent five years in a ten-by-ten icebox, and I don't think that's quite what you meant by 'growing up'." Peter smiled. "But living with Oreius and Kira and the Eryn-Gwae, I grew up quickly. We spent all of our time either in hiding or helping other Narnians who rebelled against the Witch. We spent a whole year with the fauns, once. When the foals were born, we used to go to the hills, and use the warriors' shields to sled down them." She smiled at the memory.

"Dad took us sledding every winter," Peter reminisced. "We always went skating, too."

"I never got to go skating, not once in eight years of winter," Jyoti replied. "I always wanted to try, but as you might guess, centaurs were not made to go ice skating." Peter laughed outright at that, imagining a skating centaur.

"Will there be winters, now that the Witch is gone?" he asked.

"Oreius said there should be normal seasons now, all four of them," Jyoti replied.

"Good," Peter said firmly. "Then I shall teach you to skate come winter." Jyoti smiled up at him.

"I'd like that," she admitted. "And there's the ocean, right down the cliffs, now that it's summer again, and the Rush River, too. Just down the river, there's the Dancing Lawn, where the fauns and satyrs and nymphs have bonfires and dancing there every night."

"It looks like they're practicing now," Peter said, laughing, pointing towards the interwoven circles of dancers in the middle of the courtyard.

"Do you dance at all, King Peter?" Jyoti asked, smiling impishly.

"Only ballroom," Peter admitted. "My mother made us all take lessons."

"That's alright," Jyoti replied, pulling him upright. "The fauns' dances are easy to learn." Peter shook his head, glaring at his grinning siblings.

"If I'm going, you're coming with me!" he insisted, grabbing Lucy's hand as they dashed by.

"I don't know how to do this," she protested, grabbing Edmund's hand.

"If we're doing this, you're doing this too," Edmund informed his laughing elder sister, grabbing Susan's hand.

"It's simple," Jyoti promised, stopping just beyond the interwoven circles of dancers, dropping their hands and holding her skirt out of the way to demonstrate. "It's just an eight-count of steps—cross-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight, back-two-three, back-two-three. See?" The four nodded, following her example, the girls making sure to hold their skirts clear of their feet as well.

"So why are the dancers in the center of the circles not doing those steps?" Susan asked, puzzled. Jyoti smiled.

"The fauns find great amusement in proving themselves the best dancer," she explained. "The ones in the middle are trying to out-dance each other—jump higher, step fancier, move faster."

"We'll dance with you on one condition," Peter said, smiling mischievously. "We'll join the circle dances if you dance against one of the fauns." Jyoti shook her head, blushing.

"Against Mr. Tumnus," Lucy added.

Peter raised one eyebrow teasingly. "Are you scared?" Jyoti folded her arms over her chest, shaking her head once more.

"You dance if I dance?" she asked finally. "I don't have to win, just dance?"

"I promise," he replied. Jyoti smiled wickedly.

"We have an accord," she agreed. The four Pevensies moved to stand at the edge of the largest circle as Jyoti stepped inside. "Faun Tumnus!" she called. The music stopped, and the dancers turned to look at her. "I challenge you to dance." Lucy giggled as Mr. Tumnus stepped forward, adjusting his scarf carefully.

"I accept," he replied, winking at Lucy and bowing to Jyoti. She relented and attempted a curtsy in return, managing, for the first time that day, to execute it without wobbling or toppling over.

And then the fauns struck up the music once more, and they began to dance. The song was light and airy, bouncing from note to note with jovial energy. Jyoti clasped her hands behind her back as she danced, tugging her skirt back to keep it from hindering her steps. Mr. Tumnus kept time with the clack of his cloven hooves, locking his arms behind his back, staring Jyoti straight in the eye. She stared back, eyes twinkling merrily, cheeks flushing pink as she threw in every spin, leap, and difficult step she could think of. The crowds around them began to clap in rhythm, laughing as the music became faster and faster. Mr. Tumnus' hooves sounded a continuous string of taps and clicks, providing quiet percussion to the song, and he laughed aloud as they slowly began to circle each other, twirling and spinning as they did so. Jyoti's feet flick-flicked over the ground, barely skimming the stones as the music reached a dizzying pace, so fast that her feet scarcely had time to touch the ground between steps. She kept her eyes fixed on Mr. Tumnus', who matched her step for step, though he panted with exertion. A grin spread slowly across his face, matching the smile on hers, as the music swelled, growing faster than ever before, and ceased. Mr. Tumnus bowed to her once more, much deeper this time, and Jyoti returned the courtesy, not trusting her legs to curtsy as she bowed just as deeply to him.

"Someone spent time with the fauns," Mr. Tumnus suggested breathlessly.

"We spent a whole year in the north of the Western Wood, near the Lantern Waste, with a few families of fauns," Jyoti explained, catching her breath. "I saw them dancing, once, and they offered to teach me."

"Is there anything you're not good at?" Peter demanded, mock-astonished, as he made his way over.

"Horseback riding," Jyoti replied seriously, though she smiled. "Swimming. Ice skating. Cooking. Gardening. Being quiet. Not causing trouble. I'm not particularly good with sums, either. Oreius tried to teach me, once. Would you like me to continue the list? There's plenty more things I'm not good at, have no fear."

"That makes me feel much better," Peter answered, smiling back at her.

"Me too," Lucy added. "I can do all of those things, except the not causing trouble part." Jyoti laughed as her Queen took her hand.

"I believe I was promised a dance," she reminded them, taking Peter's hand as well.

"I'd have done it without you dancing," Lucy admitted, laughing, as they joined the circle, followed shortly by Edmund and Susan. The music started once more, and the circles began to move, one around the other, dancers laughing for the joy of the dance and the joy of the day.

* * *

Author's Note: Again, sorry for the short chapter and the delay. I had some major tests, and I'm currently working on way too many stories--two that are uncompleted but partially published here, three that are as yet unpublished, and one that's a really old story that i want to get published for real (but they're all too much fun for me to abandon any of them...)

I tried to model the fauns' dancing after a Riverdance-type style of dancing (aka Irish). Any questions, just PM me, as always. Enjoy!


	11. Don't Blame It On the Sunshine

Jyoti awoke as the first rays of dawn peeked through the curtains. She jumped up immediately, pushing the curtains open wider. The trunk at the end of her bed was thrown open, though she carefully removed and folded her nightgown before slamming it shut in her excitement. Her customary thick tunic and breeches were replaced by light, summer-weight clothes: light brown breeches and a fitted pale green tunic with long, loose, gauzy sleeves. She thrust her feet into her boots, nearly tripping in her haste. Her swords lay on the small table at her bedside, the chain pooled neatly next to them, and she drew it over her head, clipping the sheaths back in place. Her daggers were properly strapped on and hidden within moments, and she peered through the still-open door.

The Queens, of course, were still asleep. Jyoti laughed in spite of herself, quickly clapping her hands over her mouth to muffle the sound. Neither of the Queens so much as twitched, and she relaxed, nodding to Malchus as he opened one eye from his perch at the base of the Queens' bed, backing up slowly to enter the corridor through her room instead. Outside, four fauns stood guard, and she nodded to them as she passed.

"I wouldn't have thought you to be such an early riser," a male voice commented dryly. Startled, Jyoti whirled around, drawing her katanas in one fluid movement. She stopped just short of Peter's neck, lowering them quickly with an embarrassed half-smile.

"Force of habit, I suppose," she explained. "Oreius said if I wanted to fight, I would keep a fighter's hours. We rose at dawn most days to spar. And what of you, King Peter?"

"I just couldn't sleep," he replied, grinning wryly. "It's not every day you become a king, after all."

"I wouldn't know," Jyoti teased, smiling back impishly. "I was actually going to fetch breakfast for your sisters. Would you care you join me? There's certainly more than enough room in their chambers. I believe there is a private dining room which adjoins your rooms to which we might bring food."

Peter nodded assent and followed her down the spiraling staircase that lead directly to the kitchens. Even at this early hour, they bustled with activity. Jyoti was surprised to see Lillin and Sola at the ovens, and they turned to greet her as she reached them.

"Hello, Fallen Star," Sola said, smiling. "Have you come for breakfast?"

"Actually, I came to take trays up for the Queens, and King Peter has offered to carry trays for himself and his brother," Jyoti replied, indicating the steam-obscured figure behind her. Sola bowed hastily at the King's appearance.

"Would it be possible to ask that everyone here not bow to us—my brother and sisters and I?" Peter asked. "We don't want to seem better than anyone else."

"As you wish, King Peter," Sola said, nodding her head. Peter smiled brightly, accepting a tray from Lillin. "And here's for you, Jyo." Jyo took a second tray, piled high with food, and inclined her head to Sola.

"You know them?" Peter asked, holding the kitchen door open with one foot. Jyoti laughed.

"They're in Oreius' herd," she replied. "They both have foals, and I used to be in charge of watching them. She thinks it amusing that I've been given a human foal to look after." Peter looked at her blankly. "Your sister, Lucy?" Peter nodded, understanding, and they fell into an awkward silence.

"Susan says she doesn't trust you," he said finally.

"I know," Jyoti replied quietly. "I thought so, last night, but I wasn't sure."

"She believes that you are some sort of criminal, and that Narnia is essentially your prison," Peter said. "And she is worried that you were corrupted by the Witch by your time with her." Jyoti's grip on the tray tightened noticeably, knuckles white with the strain of not reacting.

"I would not have stayed there had I any other choice," she said finally, though she spoke through gritted teeth. Peter nodded, glancing over at her. The strain in the muscles of her neck indicated just how much Susan's position hurt her, and he looked down.

"I know," he replied. "And Susan will understand, soon enough."

Jyoti loosened her grip on the tray with great effort, slowly relaxing.

"What did you do, to get sent down to Narnia?" he asked, curious.

"I refused to shine," Jyoti replied simply. "I believed that earth-bound mortals were not deserving of starlight, and that I deserved greater praise for giving it to them. I convinced many other stars to do the same, and for that, Aslan sent me here."

"You should tell Susan," Peter suggested. "She thinks you murdered somebody, or did something dangerous." Jyoti nodded, considering it, as they reached the door to the Queens' chambers. She paused, reluctant.

"I don't want to wake them up," she explained, biting her lip. Peter laughed, and pushed the door open.

"Wake up, lazybones!" he called, placing the tray at the end of Lucy's bed. He yanked on the curtain cord, binding them back and flooding the room with light. "There's food, and it's morning, and you should wake up!" Malchus wisely moved out of his way.

"If you are here to protect them, Jyoti, I believe I will go and call your father," he said quietly, drawing Jyoti aside. "Riel yet stands guard in the Kings' rooms." Jyoti nodded her assent, turning back to the Children as Lucy called to her.

"Jyo," Lucy said drowsily. "You're supposed to protect me, right?"

"Yes, Lucy," Jyoti replied, smiling. "I take it you need protecting right now?"

"Make my brother be quiet," she ordered, rolling over into her pillows. "Don't permanently damage him, just make him quiet."

"Your wish is my command," Jyoti answered, her smile broadening. Taking Peter's tray, she placed them both on top of Lucy's boudoir, well out of reach, and turned to face Peter. He was completely oblivious to his danger, still bouncing on Lucy's bed to wake her up, and she grinned. She grabbed a pillow from the stack next to Lucy's head and promptly bowled Peter over with it, knocking him onto the floor.

"You want a fight, do you?" he asked, springing upright and snatching a pillow of his own. "Have at it!"

Jyoti jumped off the bed, tucking her legs up and flipping backward. A pillow hit her mid-flight, and she landed on one foot, wobbling, catching herself on the bedpost. She whirled around, flinging a second pillow at Peter. He shook his head, spitting feathers, and threw it back at her. She ducked, and Susan received the brunt of the blow in her stomach. Jyoti and Peter froze, seeing the murderous look on Susan's face.

"Peter William Pevensie, you are a dead man!" she shrieked, grabbing an extra pillow as she rolled out of her bed. Jyoti wisely stepped out of the way as Susan lunged across Lucy's bed, diving on top of Peter and holding him down as she pummeled him with the pillows.

"Jyoti, why aren't you helping me?" Peter demanded, trying to cover his head. Jyoti stifled a giggle.

"I protect and follow the orders of Lucy," she explained, still giggling. "As she has not ordered me to protect you, I must assume that she does not want me to do so." Peter finally got an arm free and caught the pillow as Susan aimed for his head once more, yanking it from her grip and rolling free.

"Oh, sweet revenge," he crowed, pummeling his sister mercilessly with the pillow. Susan finally threw up her hands, surrendering, and Peter turned his attention to Jyoti instead. Her eyes widened and she raised her pillow slowly, backing away unobtrusively.

"I was merely following orders," she said cautiously. Peter shook his head, grinning, and dove at her, skidding across the bed. She got her pillow up just in time to block his strike at her head, though it knocked her backward onto Susan's bed. Jyoti scrambled to her feet as he swung at her legs, jumping over his head and turning to swing at him. Instead, she found her pillow pulled from her hands as she stumbled backward and landed on Lucy's bed, barely avoiding the young Queen's feet. She threw up her hands to protect her face, but Peter dropped the pillow and pinned both wrists above her head instead. "I surrender."

Peter grinned and let her up, placing a cautionary finger to his lips. Jyoti cocked her head, puzzled, until she saw that he was reaching for his pillow once more. On her other side, Susan, too, had risen, pillow in hand.

"Rise and shine, Lucy!" Peter called, yanking the pillow from her head. "Or face the wrath of our pillows!" Lucy groaned and rolled over, glaring at Jyoti.

"You were supposed to protect me," she accused. Jyoti shrugged.

"I was defeated," she replied. "Come now, Lucy. The food's still hot, at least."

"What's all the ruckus?" Edmund asked sleepily, leaning against the doorframe. Susan and Peter exchanged wicked looks before lunging at him. Jyoti merely slid back until she sat next to Lucy, watching the battle before them with mild interest.

"Would you care for a piece of toast?" she asked the young queen mildly, offering the tray.

"Is there any jam?" Lucy asked, accepting a plate. Jyoti wordlessly passed it over, pouring them each a glass of juice as well.

"Eggs?" Lucy offered, taking some for herself. Jyoti nodded, and Lucy handed them over. "My, it certainly doesn't look as though they intend to let up any time soon." Jyoti stifled a giggle at the sight of Susan and Peter attacking Edmund mercilessly.

"Any tea for you, Lucy?" Jyoti asked, pouring the boiling water at the Younger Queen's nod. "Cream and sugar?" She added them accordingly, stopping at Lucy's signal, before filling her own cup.

"Thank you," Lucy said mildly. "I hope every morning isn't this exciting. I don't know that I could stand the energy." Jyoti smiled at her charge.

"A toast to peace and quiet," she proposed, and Lucy raised her cup in response. "Have you any plans for today?"

"Peter said we could go to the ocean," Lucy replied eagerly. "And I want to teach you to swim, Jyoti." Jyoti laughed.

"I will be a model student," she promised. "I suppose we should really offer breakfast to your royal siblings, should we not?"

"Peter, Edmund, Susan, we're going to eat everything if you don't come over here right now!" Lucy called. The pillow fight came to an immediate and abrupt halt, and Lucy ducked as her siblings joined them on the bed. Jyoti reached up, passing around the second breakfast tray as Riel, Malchus, and Oreius entered.

"Come and join us!" Peter called, waving them over. "There's more than enough to go around."

"I thank you , my King, but we have already eaten," Oreius replied gravely. "Have you any plans for the day?"

"You promised we could go to the beach, Peter!" Lucy said immediately, tugging on her brother's sleeve. "And I have to teach Jyoti how to swim, because she doesn't know how."

"Can we have a picnic?" Edmund asked eagerly. Peter looked to Oreius.

"Don't we have to deal with matters of state or something?" he asked. Oreius chuckled.

"Narnia has no standing army, no governors or towns or cities," he replied, shaking his head. "Your job, as Kings and Queens, is to maintain peace. When there are problems, Narnians will tell you. The only 'matters of state' you need concern yourself with are becoming knowledgeable about your kingdom and your subjects."

"There are merpeople in the ocean," Lucy interjected hastily. "We could start by learning about them!"

"Narnia does not require much ruling, only a touch of guidance, my King," Oreius said quietly, just loud enough for Peter to hear. "The Queen was the exception, not the rule. Narnia has never had a standing army, or a secret police. Your only true responsibility will be to do what is best for your subjects, and you must know them to do what is best for them." Peter took a deep breath.

"Alright, then," he said finally, smiling. "Yes, Lucy, we will go to the ocean, and yes, Edmund, we may have a picnic." Lucy jumped up from the bed, tackling her elder brother before tearing through her trunk, searching for a bathing suit.

"Lu, they're not going to have bathing suits," Susan called, reclining against the pillows.

"What are we going to go swimming in, then?" Lucy asked, puzzled.

"Wear your shift," Jyoti suggested. "It's lightweight, short, and won't drag at your legs."

"But won't it be ruined?" Lucy asked.

"Wear a black one," Susan called. "Salt stains will always wash out, and it won't be see-through. Just wear it under your dress."

"Does that mean we're getting kicked out?" Peter asked plaintively. Susan nodded, and Peter led Edmund out. Oreius and Riel followed, and Malchus politely turned to face away from the girls.

"We'll come get you when we're ready!" Susan called, closing the door behind them.

"I've a black chemise in my boudoir," Jyoti informed them. "I wouldn't be surprised if you did as well." Susan looked through her boudoir, finding one of the short-sleeved, knee-length garments there. Jyoti darted back to her room, pulling out her own chemise and slipping it on under a pale green dress. She re-entered the room in time to help Lucy and Susan with the buttons on their chemises before making sure all of her weapons were in place.

"I can ask Sola to pack us a picnic lunch," Jyoti offered. "Have you any requests?"

"Toast, for Edmund," Lucy replied, grinning. "What about sandwiches?"

"And lemonade," Susan suggested. "And perhaps strawberries?"

"Are chicken sandwiches with lettuce and tomato acceptable?" Sola asked, poking her head in the door. She smiled. "Edmund and Peter sent for me."

"That would be fine," Susan replied, recovering from her surprise. "Thank you."

"You are most welcome, my Queen," Sola replied, bobbing her head. "If you are in a hurry to reach the shore, Lillin and I could bring the basket down to you."

"I hate to give you extra work," Lucy protested.

"Really, it's no trouble at all," Sola assured her. "We would be glad to."

"Then we'd be glad for it," Susan replied. Sola bowed her head once more before closing the door behind her.

"Let's go get the boys, Susan!" Lucy insisted, bouncing off the bed. Jyoti caught her before she fell, grinning, and placed her gently on the ground.

"I'll get Oreius and Riel," Malchus promised, slipping out the door ahead of them, and Jyoti held the door open for the Queens.

"Are you going swimming with all those?" Lucy asked, pointing at Jyoti's weapons. Jyoti laughed.

"Not all of them," she replied. "I would prefer to hold onto at least a dagger or two, to best protect you, but I will not wear all of them into the ocean. Besides, I'd rather not swim with my katana."

"That's what they're called?" Susan asked. "Are they different from regular swords?" Jyoti drew one of them, holding it out hilt first for Susan to see.

"Katana are sharp only on one side," Jyoti explained. "They're slightly curved, and they come to a point, just as a regular sword does. The groove in the center is called a blood channel, but it has nothing to do with blood—it lessens the weight of the blade without weakening it. None of my blades will rust, because they're all made of star-metal, but they will dull, so I have to be sure to polish and whet them still."

"What's on the hilt?" Lucy asked, tracing the ornate lettering there.

"It's a message, from my parents," Jyoti explained, smiling as she followed Lucy's finger.

"I thought your parents were stars," Lucy replied, confusion evident on her face.

"They are," Jyoti agreed. "When I was ten, just after the Eryn-Gwae took me in, we were at the Stone Table—Oreius didn't want me anywhere near the White Witch's palace. It was my birth-day, Midsummer's Day—or it would have been, if we had summer. I was sitting on the Table, just watching the stars, and there was a bright light, just like a falling star. It was so bright I couldn't look, and I hid under the table. When I came out, the katana were just lying there, with the knives next to them. Oreius said they were probably meant for me, and then we saw the writing on the hilts."

"So what does it say?" Susan asked, curious.

"This one says 'Be not the slave of your own past,' and this one says 'Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres,'" Jyoti said softly, not even needing to look down at the hilt to know the words. "They remind me why I'm here."

"What did you do, exactly?" Susan asked, a hint of a challenge in her voice. "No one's said anything about it."

"I suppose Peter hadn't had the chance to tell you just yet," Jyoti replied. "I refused to shine, and I convinced other stars to do the same thing. I thought that earth-bound creatures weren't worth my light, or my effort, and Aslan sent me here to learn otherwise."

"Oh," Susan said quietly, and a slightly awkward silence fell until Lucy handed Jyoti her sword and knocked on her brothers' door.

"Ready?" Lucy called.

"Just a moment!" Edmund called back, his voice muffled by the door. Lucy made a face he couldn't see, slumping back against the wall.

"They always complain about how long we take," she whispered theatrically, more than loud enough for her brothers to hear. Jyoti chucked, absentmindedly beginning to plait Lucy's hair.

"I heard that!" Peter called back, as Jyoti tied the braid off with a flourish. "And we're coming, I promise."

Edmund tugged the door open, grimacing, and stuck his tongue out at Lucy.

"So there," he retorted, waving his towel at her. "I'm ready to go whenever you are."

"Come on, Peter!" Lucy insisted. "We haven't been to the ocean in _ages_!"

"Alright, Lucy," Peter laughed, closing the door behind him. "We'll go."

"Finally," Lucy sighed, exasperated. "I thought girls were the ones who take ages to get dressed."

"For that, you will be receiving a dunking," Peter said loftily.

"Thus speaks the High King," Edmund added pompously, performing an ostentatiously obsequious bow, and the girls giggled.

"You'll have to catch us first!" Lucy called, leaving her slippers behind as she took off down the hall toward the outdoor stairs leading down the cliff, followed closely by Jyoti. Susan sighed, resigned but smiling, as she chased after them. Edmund and Peter spared a moment for a wicked glance before offering pursuit, thundering down the stairs behind their sisters. Riel descended behind them at a more sedate pace, while Malchus simply coasted in the air above them. Oreius met them at the base of the cliffs, stepping aside as Lucy and Jyoti tore past him. He chuckled slightly.

"Where do they keep all that energy?" Peter asked, pausing to catch his breath. Oreius smiled at the King.

"I have not seen her smile so for too long," he remarked, indicating Jyoti's fleeing figure. "Your sister is restoring her innocence."

Peter nodded sagely, contemplating the runners before him.

"Come on, Peter!" Edmund called, breaking into his musings. "I thought Lucy was getting dunked at some point!"

Oreius could only laugh as Peter raced after his siblings, followed resignedly by their less-energetic guards.

* * *

Author's Note: I am so incredibly sorry for having taken so long to get this chapter up! I got stuck for a while, and there was this obnoxious thing called "real life" that kept intruding on my writing time. To quote the brilliant Calvin and Hobbes: "Reality continues to ruin my life." Anywho, apologies again. Enjoy! And as always...review, please.


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